Stranger Things Have Occurred
by Waiting for Cas
Summary: Potential threats of S.H.I.E.L.D have been carefully watched for many years. When the time has come to bring in those potentials, anger will be the first instinct, especially if someone gets hurt. S.H.I.E.L.D may have gone over their heads when they realize what those 'potential threats' are capable of.
1. The Beginning of Something Strange

This is set after Doctor Who: The Day of the Doctor

This is set after the Avengers, Iron Man 3, but most likely before Captain America.

...

The Beginning of Something Strange  
><span>  
>To say that Tony Stark was furious would be an understatement. The resent he felt towards S.H.I.E.L.D at the moment was unlike any other. They had abandoned him, leaving him to face killer, exploding, fire monsters on his own. They had left his girlfriend, Pepper, and the President of the United States for the dead, and they hadn't even bothered to help with the massive clean up efforts. Then, two weeks later, they'd asked him to go with Agent Barton on a mission in Britain. They hadn't even given him enough time to rebuild his Malibu home! He would have rejected the file (possibly by incinerating the files, then tossing it like confetti around Director Fury) but Pepper had stepped in, told him to be the bigger man, and kicked him out of the tower until the job was done.<p>

The four-hour flight from New York to London would have been great, (peaceful, quiet, and full of margaritas) except for the fact he stuck on the small quinjet complete with two pilots, Cupid (aka Clint Barton) and Agent Angry Face (His nose was scrunched in a way that always made him look like he was going on a murdering rampage). Supposedly this "Level 6" Agent, whose name Tony hadn't bothered to learn, was the one that had gathered the information that was in the file, that Tony also hadn't bothered to read. Honestly, for how huge of a threat they were making this to be, there was a meager amount of information.

Then again, Tony was pretty sure that SHIELD's motto was 'Eliminate threats before they become threats' with a nice smiley face at the end.

Clint was beside him, clicking away on his Stark Phone, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He had spent the first ten minutes polishing his bow, complaining about the mess in his room (which was his own fault, why he was complaining to Tony was beyond him) before getting bored. Tony was eighty-five percent sure he was playing Plants vs Zombies.

The lead agent stepped in front of the two Avengers, a holopad in his hands. He glared down at Clint, an impatient foot tapping.

"Agent Barton" the Agent said, agitation in his voice.

Without looking up, Clint replied, "Can I help you Agent Steel?"

"You can, for once in your life, grown up and take a mission seriously?"

Rolling his eyes, Clint tossed his phone to the side, "Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, and it sure wasn't me!" A cocky smirk slid onto his face as Agent Steel's hands turned into fists.

"Pay attention now, if you wouldn't mind," The Agent continued before the Archer could interrupt, "The man, or so we think, is-"

This time Tony rolled his eyes with Hawkeye, "Seriously?" Tony asked in disbelief, "This... This thing is a 'serious threat' and you don't even know if its human? Fantastic work on your part! And just to let you know, I don't want you getting the wrong idea, that was sarcasm."

"Technically, we could be going after the devil, being that, you know... Well actually you don't!" Clint said, laughing at his own joke.

"Did you two even read the file?" Agent Steele snapped, his face red with rage. When neither of them responded, he threw his hands into the air in frustration, and stormed to the front of the quinjet, muttering something the two 'incompetent Avengers' in front of him.

With a massive sigh, Tony grabbed his Stark Pad from his bag and opened up the file. There were four pages, and about forty-five grainy photo's, all of them obviously taken by traffic or security cameras.

The files were all stamped with U.N.I.T's name. The first page in the file had all the official works on it. The date, where it was written, how many days after the event. The bottom was signed by a Martha Jones and a Mickey Smith. Page two was the scanned copy of Martha's hand written report.

'Despite what the rumors say, The Doctor is not dead. Over two hundred eyewitness reports prove this to be true. While in Brazil Mickey Jones, and myself came across a woman that went by the name River. She refused to tell us her last name, but told us much more valuable information. River showed us proof that The Doctor was indeed not dead, even after the lack of appearances over the last few years. None of that information is discloseable. She also warned us of a threat making its way to U.N.I.T. When we tried to contact U.N.I.T, there was only silence. Torchwood fared no better. We are on our way back to U.N.I.T headquarters now. I fear the worst for U.N.I.T. I am writing this to be sure that, if U.N.I.T has indeed fallen, that The Doctor is found. He is your only hope, no matter who finds this. Trust The Doctor.'

A shiver went up Tony's spine. The report was obviously written in a hurry. Some words were almost indecipherable. The edges of the paper were burnt in some places, and something that looked a lot like blood stained the paper in some places.

Everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D had heard about their British counterparts fall. No one knew what happened. One day there was U.N.I.T, the next, nothing. From what S.H.I.E.L.D could tell, there had been no survivors from the attack. The headquarters had been burned to the ground, most of the paper files had been destroyed, and the electronic files weren't that much better off. They salvaged what they could, but there hadn't been much. S.H.I.E.L.D had been on a high alert ever since

"Torchwood," Clint pondered out loud, "I don't think I've ever heard of that. Who do you think this Doctor is?"

"I have no idea, Cupid. He seemed to have gained a lot of trust from Martha though." Tony replied. It was silent after that; both men had returned to their files.

The third page was again a scanned copy of a report, but this one was written by Mickey Smith. It was quite a bit messier and definitely in a rougher condition.

'I am going to skip the formalities and get right to it. I am probably going to die today. Some of the best Agents in U.N.I.T refuse to pick up their phones. What chance does someone with so little experience have against, well, whatever took out U.N.I.T. Whoever finds this be it the British Government, or S.H.I.E.L.D, call Jack Harkness. Even if Torchwood went down with U.N.I.T, he probably found a way to survive. His number is (029)-564-6796. If he doesn't answer right away, he is probably being the ass he usually is. Trust The Doctor, that is very important. If the world is coming to an end, he is probably right around the corner. You won't find him, unless he wants to be found, so don't even bother. Good luck and stop whatever happened to me from destroying the rest of the world."

The fourth and final page was by far the most interesting being that it was an email to the big man himself, Fury.

'Director Fury;

I am Kate Stewart, head of the Scientific division in U.N.I.T, and we have made a terrible enemy. We have managed to anger a man that goes by The Doctor. I am the only one left at the base. Sergeant Munro gave me clear instructions to send this message to you.

People say that The Doctor is kind, and caring, but he's not. He is manipulative, and will play you. We thought that he was trusted, we thought that he would keep us safe. We were wrong. He is able to kill without mercy. Find him and eliminate him before it's too late for you too.

I don't have much time left. The Doctor is smart. He will outwit you if you let him. Kill him on sight. Do not hesitate or you'll be the dead one."

Tony blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he had just read. The last page was completely opposite from the other two. Martha and Mickey had trusted the man with their lives, yet he had murdered hundreds at U.N.I.T. He seemed like a full on traitor.

"Are you children finished reading yet?' Agent Steele asked sarcastically, walking back from the cockpit into the cabin.

Clint, looking as conflicted as Tony felt, asked several questions in quick succession, "What is Torchwood? Who is this Jack Harkness? Who is this Doctor dude? Is our mission The Doctor? Why did so many people trust The Doctor if he was so...so cruel?"

Sighing, Agent Steele began to answer Clint's questions, "Torchwood was an organization created in 1879 by Queen Victoria. Its primary goals were to defend Earth against supernatural and extraterrestrial beings. It-"

"Wait, are you saying the Queen of England came across an alien that got her so paranoid that she created a club to fight them off?" Tony laughed, failing to maintain composure.

"It was a werewolf actually," Agent Steele replied, shutting Tony up, "Jack Harkness, from what we could find, was the head of Torchwood in Cardiff. What made him so special in Agent Smith's report is unknown. When we tried calling the number in Mickey's report, we got sent to voicemail. The Doctor is our unknown variable. We could find nothing about this things heritage. All that matters is that he is a monster that needs to be brought in or killed. I am aiming for the later. We believe that The Doctor manipulated the people at U.N.I.T and Torchwood into thinking that they were his friends, by reasons we will discuss later. He created a trusting relationship with the organizations, and as soon as it was necessary, he got rid of them. Now-"

"You forg-" Tony tried to interrupt.

"I realize that I didn't answer one of the questions, I was getting to it! Now, we have spent the last two months trying to track down The Doctor himself. All attempts have lead to dead ends and missing agents. Luckily though, we found a similarity in the photos." The agent explained.

Within two seconds, the two Avengers had whipped out their Stark Pads and were searching through the pictures.

Tony scanned through the pictures, trying to find something similar. In a few photos, there was a bright blue box, but it was unlikely they would be going after an object. Other photos had pictures of different men. One had a long scarf and curly hair, while another had a pinstripe suit on, and spiky brown hair. Nothing seemed to match between photos, unless...

"We are going after one of The Doctor's girls!" Stark exclaimed, nearly leaping out of his seat. When a slight nod was sent from Agent no-fun, Tony turned to Clint and muttered ,"Suck it," under his breath.

With a twitching eye, Agent Steele began to explain again, "There are two things I would like to point out. One, The Doctor seems to change faces quite often. S.H.I.E.L.D believes that the title is passed down from person to person. The box goes with whoever has the title. The second thing I would like to point out is the female company. Originally, I was going to send you after Rory and Amy Pond, photo numbers twenty-five to forty. They have been seen the most with The Doctor, but they went missing a year ago. Haven't been able to find them since. Our next best option was Rose Tyler, her mother Jackie Tyler, and Mickey Smith, photos eight through sixteen. Yes, the same Mickey. Sadly though, the Tyler's went off the map years ago, and Mickey went MIA after the U.N.I.T incident. It is lucky we did manage to track down one of his 'friends', Clara Oswald. She is your mission. I want answers from her, and if you can't get answers, I want you to get her back to S.H.I.E.L.D, no matter what. I also want her alive, being that she may be our only chance of finding him. So, no matter what, DO NOT MESS THIS UP!" With those final words, the head agent made his way back to the cockpit.

It was silent between the Avengers for a moment, both of them processing what had been said.

"Something's off about this mission," Clint said slowly, "There are too many things contradicting each other, the details are mushy."

Scratching his head, Tony responded, "Well Hawkeye, what do you want to do? Back out? No matter how much you try you'll always be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. You'll always be as loyal to Fury as I am to Pepper. That means no matter how much we hate this, we won't quit."

Tony's speech seemed to have struck a nerve in Clint. Instead of responding in his normal sarcastic attitude, he pulled out his phone and proceeded to ignore Tony.

In that moment, Tony took the opportunity to get a good look at the resident archer. It wasn't like him to question Fury. That was his job.

Clint had been living at the Avengers Tower almost as long as Bruce. At first he had come only at night, and was gone by morning. By time the rest of the Avengers moved in, Clint had found a permanent home at the tower.

Tony had assumed that Clint was quiet, and Natasha like. He was dead wrong. Clint was loud, sarcastic, and easy to get along with. Everyone seemed to like him. How his attitude was still so still so positive after what happened with Loki was beyond most of the Avengers. Natasha was the only one who seemed worried about Hawkeyes sanity.

"None of you knew him before Loki took him over," Natasha had told both Tony and Steve one night, "He used to be respected, healthy, and most of all happy. He's lost a lot of respect at S.H.I.E.L.D. People blame him for the deaths on the helicarrier, and judge him for struggling through the physiological exams. What I'm asking of you guys is to keep an eye on him while I'm gone. Make sure he finds something to do until he can go back to regular missions, ok? I would rather have him fake his way through this than go back there."

Tony had doubted he was suppose to hear the last part. It had scared him. He knew Clint had joined S.H.I.E.L.D after some serious convincing, but he didn't know the whole story. There seemed to be no electronic files of Clint's past. Tony was seriously worried about where 'there' was.

Tony had to also worry about Clint faking his way through. Even with all of the archers training, he did slip up. At times, Clint would be sitting there, eyes unfocused; glassy.

It was the exact look Clint had as they flew to England. He was gently rubbing his hand against his shoulder, as if nursing a wound. He had bags under his eyes, and it looked like he had lost even more weight.

Looking at the mess beside him, Tony couldn't help but think; Is Clint ready for this?


	2. Why?

Why?

Steve Rodgers couldn't help but like S.H.I.E.L.D for its patterns. Alarms went off at exactly six am every morning, waking the entire S.H.I.E.L.D complex in Washington, D.C. Breakfast was served from exactly six am to seven am. Training, or mission prep, was from seven am till noon. Twelve until one was lunch, and after that Steve almost always went to explore the new world. From five pm to six pm was dinner. From that point on Steve would read, or try to figure out all the options on his cellphone. At ten pm, he would go to bed, and start the same routine in the morning.

The routine was what kept him sane in this crazy world.

Phone calls from Natasha at five thirty in the morning was another fairly regular thing. She would call from all around the world, craving some sort of human contact. She was mostly alone on missions since Clint had been taken from all field work duties, at least until he passed both his physical and psychiatric evaluations. He had been struggling with the psychiatric evaluation until recently, and had finally been released for field work.

This particular morning was no different. Natasha phoned, quickly telling him that there was a mission prep at seven am sharp, and that he better not be late. She hung up before he could get a word out of his mouth.

Mission preps always started on time. It was something S.H.I.E.L.D took pride in. The clock in room 212 had just past ten o'clock, and who ever was giving the mission plan still hadn't arrived. In the small room there were ten S.H.I.E.L.D agents, Steve, Natasha, and most surprisingly, Bruce Banner.

Bruce had arrived two hours late. He was wearing wrinkled grey dress shirt, and an equally wrinkled pair of black pants. His eyes had black bags beneath them. Black hair was sticking out in all directions. Bruce was practically chugging a large cup of coffee.

When he noticed both Natasha and Steve glancing at him with worry in their eyes, he gave a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I was put on a three o'clock flight from New York, which was delayed until five, this morning in order to get down here on time, or something like that. I can't sleep on planes."

Steve gently smiled at Bruce, "There's no reason to apologize. How have you been?"

"Great actually!" Sleep seemed to disappear from Bruce's eyes as he continued, "Living off of the streets has been great! Being able to take a shower everyday is something people seriously take from granted." Natasha and Steve couldn't help but to smile at their friend's happiness.

"Have you and Stark been working on any projects?" Natasha asked.

"Yes. We've been working on a prototype that can find life forms in space, so next time an attack happens we won't be so unprepared. It's been hard though since neither of us know much about space phys-" Bruce was cut off as Fury slammed the door open.

"Agents! This is a very important mission," Fury yelled, turning on the holo-screen at the front, "Lives are at serious risk if you fail!"

Fury pulled up the pictures of two men, "This is Samuel and Dean Winchester. Both men are high up on the S.H.I.E.L.D most dangerous list. They have committed acts such as murder, torture, grave desecration, and FBI impersonation. Reports say that the two feel justified in doing these things because of a new cult on the rise. A cult that they created."

"And why haven't we gone after these boys before?" Natasha asked, her voice taking a dark undertone.

"The Winchester's are smart. They keep themselves underground, only coming out to commit their crimes. Samuel has faked his death twice, using very similar bodies to his own. Dean has managed this feat three times, using the same methods as his brother. We finally managed to find them holding up in the small town of Lebanon, Kansas." Fury replied, anger evident in his voice.

Bruce took a deep breath, "Director Fury, not to be rude or anything, but this more of a case for the FBI or the CIA?"

"This has gone beyond those organizations," Fury stated with an uncharacteristic eye roll, "The cult that the two have started is beginning to gain members." With a flick of his hand, several new pictures showed up. Pointing to a middle aged man with windswept black hair, "This is Jimmy Novak. In 2010 he disappeared from his home. We believe this is when he decided to join the cult the Winchesters had created. There's a low chance that Novak's family was threatened." Fury swiped to the next picture, "This here is Kevin Tran. Honors student who decided to take a different path than college. His mother was killed by the Winchesters. He's young, but still very dangerous."

The next picture was a girl with long red hair," This is Celeste Middleton. She joined the Winchesters after years of breaking the law. These are the main five, but others have been in their tirade. Jody Mills, Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Ash Grommel, Bobby Singer, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden, and Amelia Richardson have also been seen with the Winchesters on more than one occasion."

"What do you want us to do?" Captain Rogers questioned.

"I want the two Winchesters back here alive. The Jimmy, Kevin, and Celeste are not top priority, but having them would definitely benefit us," Fury replied.

"What about the others?" Bruce questioned, sipping his coffee.

"When we take in the Winchesters, the rest of them should scatter. If not, we'll take them down as well. Besides," a small smirk appeared on Nicholas Fury's face, "Most of them are dead anyways."

The people in the room shifted, uncomfortable with the way their director had said that.

Natasha, being the first to recover, quickly took hold of the situation, "How are we playing this out?"

"You leave in 0500 hours tomorrow, Captain Rogers will be commander. Be ready and DO NOT KILL THEM," was Fury's final words before leaving.

/-/-/-/-/-/

"You guys waited there for three hours and he talked for less than fifteen minutes," Bruce commented, looking across the table at Steve and Natasha.

Natasha shook her head, " I make it my job to know everyone on S.H.I.E.L.D's wanted list, and these two have never been on it. You'd think that they would be somewhere on that list if they are as dangerous as Fury seems to think they are, even if they aren't Doom level."

"Director Fury said that they faked their deaths more than once. Maybe they recently showed up again, and that's why they weren't on the list?" Steve reasoned.

Natasha nodded, but the small frown on her face showed she wasn't quite convinced. The three Avengers sat in the cafeteria in silence, eating an early lunch.

"Why do you think all those people joined the Winchesters, I mean, none of them really looked like mass murders." Bruce said, eating a bit of his soup.

"There's a hundred different reasons Bruce," Nat replied, idly picking at her salad, "The Winchesters could have been a way out. A way out from dept, a way out from a boring life. Maybe they were threatened into joining. We just have to rust Fury, and get the job done so no one else gets hurt."

"The good news is I have a plan that should limit any sort of casualties," Steve announced, a smile on his face.

"So whats the plan Cap?"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

That night, when Bruce went to bed, a million thoughts were spinning through his head.

The most prominent thought was that he was certain he had heard about the Winchesters. It was like a tickle at the back of his mind.

The Winchesters

Samuel and Dean Winchester.

Where had he heard those names? It was driving him crazy!

The second though that ran through his mind was what could possibly drive someone do those horrible things to someone?

Natasha had, at one point, done similar things, but she had a pretty good excuse. He honestly wondered if maybe it wasn't the Winchesters who had started this, but someone they loved. It was possible that their parents started it, and the brothers just followed what they did.

But that brought up more questions. Why did their parents start doing such terrible things? Did no one teach them how wrong murder was?

Bruce couldn't help but fall into an uneasy sleep that night.


	3. Gone

Gone

Friday, much like her students, was Clara Oswald's favourite day of the week. Friday meant the best cafeteria food, which meant no disgusting 'meat' or over cooked noodles, and it was the only day of the week where they served dessert. This not only put Clara in a good mood, but her students as well.

The other best part about Friday were her students. At this point during the week, most got their work done on time, so they didn't have to suffer through hours of homework on the weekend. That meant she didn't have to nag her students about getting their work in. Also, on other days during the week, struggling students would come in after school for extra help. On Fridays though, hardly anyone came in for help.

Clara was able to leave almost right after school ended. Her night would consist of marking assignments while watching any movie should could get her hands on. She hoped she could everything done that night, because Saturday The Doctor was coming, and she would rather not have to worry about marking assignments while they were off traveling the universe.

"Clara!" A voice called as she left the school.

A smile appeared on Clara's face. Turning around, she called back, "Hey Danny."

The man caught up to her, and the two walked in sinc. It was warm for Autumn. The trees covering the school grounds were shades of orange, and yellow. It was quite beautiful.

"So," Danny started, "What are you up to this weekend?"

"Very exciting things, Mr. Pink. Things so exciting, you wouldn't even believe it!" Clara replied.

Danny laughed at her response, "So marking I assume?"

"Yep! It's the highlight of my week!" Clara reponed, sarcastically as possible.

"That doesn't sound that fun, but I think I know a way to make it better."

"Oh really?" Clara asked, her smile brightening.

"Yes." Danny declared, "I was thinking a dinner, tonight, at six. Maybe we could catch a movie afterwards. I could pick you up?"

"I don't know, marking seems pretty fun to me," Clara smiled, "But I think I could squeeze that in!"

"Great! By the way, do you need a ride home?"

"Thanks Danny, but this might be the last chance I get to walk home. It beautiful out today!" Agreeing, Danny kissed Clara on the cheek, before heading towards his car, waving goodbye.

Clara couldn't wipe the smile off her face on the way home. This would be her and Danny's sixth official date, not including all the lunch dates they had at the school. She really liked Danny, even if most of the students at the school were scared of him.

The two hadn't done anything serious yet. They hadn't kissed, or gone on any fancy dates, but Clara didn't mind. With how fast everything seemed to go with The Doctor, taking it slow was kind of nice.

Clara turned a corner, and headed down an abnormally deserted street. Most of the time the street had quite a few people on it. She was just earlier than usual, that's all. Most people hadn't gotten off work yet. Right?

Either way, she grabbed her Stunner out of her bag, and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. The Doctor had given it to her after she got kidnapped in Norway. Not the country, the planet. After three days boiling in the desert (Norway was nothing like Norway) The Doctor had found her, and promptly gave her something to defend herself with. The Stunner would basically knock the wind out of anything that attacked her, giving her time to get away. It also had a tracker that the TARDIS would be able to find. The Stunner looked similar to a gun, but was smaller, much less lethal, and bright purple. I looked like something out of a cartoon

Clara walked quickly, trying to get to a busier street. It was so empty her footsteps echoed. About halfway down the street, she noticed two men sitting on a bench on the opposite side. They both were on their phones.

A few steps later, she heard a call from one of the men.

"Hey! Wait!" one of the two yelled. She again turned around as the two men caught up behind her.

The one that yelled was American, judging by the accent. The one that yelled had dark brown hair, almost black. He had a strange beard, that looked immensely familiar. The man was carrying a metallic, red, suitcase in his hand. The other man was slightly taller than the first. This one had dirty blond hair, and a clean shaven face. He was carrying a long duffle bag.

"How can I help you?" Miss. Oswald asked.

The two men looked at each other in what looked liked shock. The blond one stepped forward, "Are you Clara Oswald?" She nodded, "Nice to meet you, I'm Clint, and this is Tony. We have a few questions for you."

"Is this going to be quick, I've got lots to do when I get home." Clara asked, forcing a smile onto her face.

The second man, Tony, replied, "Of course! We've only got a few questions for you, don't worry!"

"Our first question is, where can we find The Doctor," Clint asked, surprisingly gentle.

The question makes Clara's heart skip a beat. U.N.I.T and Torchwood people were the only ones who were suppose to know about The Doctor. They would have identified themselves straight from the start. So who these people, and how did they know about The Doctor?

"The Doctor?" Clara asked, trying to slow her heartbeat to a normal rate, "Doctor who?"

Clint speaks again, "I think you know exactly what we're talking about."

"Well," Clara begins, her hand tightening around the Stunner "I have Doctor Moore as my dentist, Doctor Cooper as my optometrist, Doctor Kim as m-"

Tony sighed, eyes fixed on his phone, "Clara, you seem like a nice girl," It felt like something was crawling up Clara's leg, but she was too scared to try and brush it off. "and it would really suck if we had to hurt you."

Questions were one thing, but threatening was taking it too far. Without hesitating, she whipped out the Stunner, and pointed it at Clint, who happened to be the closest to her.

Both men threw their hands in the air, letting their bags fall.

"Ok kiddo, why don't you lower your weapon, and we can figure this out," Clint says, not taking his eyes off the Stunner.

"You're the one threatening me!" Clara retorted, feeling something crawl up her back, "Why should I put it down!"

"Clara, let's just calm down ok. I was just kidding about hurting you! You are perfectly safe with us!" with that, Tony took a step forward.

The second Tony had moved, Clara had pressed the trigger. With a flash of light, Tony was on the ground unconscious.

"Tony!" Clint gasped, leaning down to help his friend. Clara took the opening and booked it down the street.

She ditched her flats, and held onto her bag for dear life. She could hear the heavy footfalls of the man behind her. She was too terrified to look back.

She zigzagged as she ran, hoping that the man wouldn't get a chance to catch her. Her feet hurt every step. She couldn't stop. She was not going to get caught by whatever monster was behind her. She could feel whatever was crawling up her on her neck.

A hand suddenly caught her elbow, yanking her back. Losing her balance, she fell into the chest of the thing behind her. Arms wrapped around her stomach, pinning her arms to her side.

"Calm down!" Clint said, as she struggled in his arms, "You need to calm down!"

Clara did exactly that. She took a deep breath, a stopped moving. The arms around her slacked slightly.

"See, there's no need to panic. We just need you to come in wi-" Clint's sentence was cut short as he yelled in pain. Clara had bit him, "Tony, now!"

Clara felt a shock at her neck. Her legs gave out, then her arms went slack, forcing her to drop her bag. The last thing she saw were pages from her bag rolling down the street.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"I could have died Clint. Died. And what the Avengers be without me? Nothing. The Avengers would have no funding, and no face. My face is beautiful, and needed to keep its good image going," Tony ranted to Clint as they headed back to the jet. It was in the field behind the houses.

"Oh come on Tony," Clint said, rolling his eyes, "My face could easily replace yours! Besides, if anyone is going to die, it's probably going to be me. She bit me, and we have no idea what she is. For all I know, I could end up like that guy from District 9."

Tony gaped at him, "You know the world's crappiest movie, but not any good eighties songs!"

"First of all," Clint paused, readjusting the girl in his arms, before continuing, "District 9 is a decent film. I can think of worse, like Sharknado, or The Human Centipede. That movie was horrifying! Second of all, is there any good eighties songs?"

"I'm offended!" Tony declared.

"Good!" Clint let the smile fade from his face as he looked down on Clara, "You know, for knowing someone so dangerous, she really wasn't." Tony gave him a confused look, "I mean, she totally could have killed you there, instead she just knocked you out to get away."

Tony took a minute to think, "I totally agree. But if I start growing an arm from my forehead, I'm blaming you. Also, that was a pretty good idea to put up those road construction signs. Seriously, people avoided the road like the plague."

Clint gave Tony a crooked grin, "I am pretty smart, aren't I."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Doctor was excited. He had the perfect trip planned for his and Clara's Sunday trip. First, he would take her to see a supernova. They would get to see the beauty of a sun exploding. He would tell her about all the aliens the sun had kept warm. He would tell her the folklore of the people that used to inhabit the planets rotating around that sun. She would love it!

He would then taker her to Aberath. Aberath was known for having some of the best food in the entire universe. They would pack up the food from there and head to Berfered. It was one of his favorite places. Berfered had beautiful forests with bright blue leaves, and pink undergrowth.

He honestly couldn't wait to show Clara. If they were lucky, no trouble would follow them, and they would be able to enjoy something without running for their lives.

The Doctor paced in the TARDIS, waiting for Clara. Last time he had gone Clara's door, she had a guest over. A male guest to be exact. She had pushed him out of her apartment before he even had a chance to make sure he wasn't some sort of evil alien. Or human. Evil humans could be as bad as evil aliens.

Frustrated, The Doctor checked the time (and date) on the console. Unless the TARDIS was wrong, Clara was five hours late. She was never this late.

The Doctor paced the TARDIS one last time before pushing through the doors. It was warm outside, abnormally warm for a normal Autumn day in England.

The TARDIS was parked in the small field area behind Clara's apartment. She could have easily seen the TARDIS from her window. So where was she?

As he stalked towards her building, he began to wonder if maybe she didn't want to come today. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she was with her male guest that she didn't want to introduce him to. Had his breath his breath stank that day? Had he been he dressed oddly? Was she embarrassed by him?

Wait, no! He couldn't think about that now! He had more important issues at hand.

The slow elevator took him up to the eighth floor. He had never been so happy that Clara had given him a key to her apartment (Even if he didn't need it.)She had said, "If you trust me with a key to your TARDIS, then I trust you with a key to my apartment. Don't lose it though, or you are paying to replace it."

He couldn't help but smile at that though.

The elevator dinged, and opened at Clara's level. He quickly walked down the hall, and quickly knocked on Clara's door. When no one answered, he knocked again. Clara's door didn't open, but her neighbors door did.

"Hello Mrs. Ellis!" Mrs. Ellis had three kids, all under the age of six. She had roped both Clara, and himself into babysitting them once, and even for him they were wild. "Have you seen Clara anywhere today?"

Mrs. Ellis gave him a sad look, "Oh, honey. You didn't hear?" The Doctor shook his head, "Why don't you come inside for some tea. The kettle just finished boiling."

The Doctor followed her into the messy apartment. She lead him to the kitchen, and quickly poured him some tea. She set some sugar, and cream next to it, letting him decide what to put in it.

The Doctor put several spoonfuls of sugar in his tea, "So, have you seen Clara?"

"John," It took The Doctor a moment to remember that was his human name, "Clara was walking home alone yesterday." She took a moment, tears welling up in her eyes, "They say some kids found the bag, with her phone and all in it. The kids didn't think much of it, until they saw the blood on the ground. There was only a little of it, but their parents phoned the police. The police came, and identified the bag as Clara's. When they asked the people in the surrounding buildings, only one person saw anything, and they said two men had taken Clara."

The Doctor blinked, trying to comprehend what had just been said.

Clara, his impossible girl, was missing.

Clara, his impossible girl, had been kidnapped.

Clara had been taken by someone (something) and there was no way he was going to let her go like that.


	4. I Told You

Let's just say for the sake of the story, Slumber Party, never happened. For Sam and Dean, this is sometime just before Holy Terror, for Cas, it is sometime during the time of Holy Terror.

Warnings: Some swearing, and mild violence.

* * *

><p>". . . Seriously? She's the one trying to take over hell!. . .Are you ok?. . . Saying you're fine does not mean that you are actually good. Saying fine means you are trying to avoid the question! . . . Of course you can handle yourself I- . . . No! There is no way I'm letting you do that . . . Fine . . . Ok . . . I'll see you there tomorrow morning. Stay safe, and lay low ok? . . . I love you too, kiddo." With a sigh, Dean Winchester snapped his phone shut, and slouched even deeper into his chair.<p>

It had been a rough few weeks. Angels falling from heaven, forcing his brother to be possessed by an angel to save his life, Cas losing his grace, and Abaddon taking over hell, and attacking his family. What else could go wrong?

"That was quite the conversation," Sam commented, walking into the library with two beers in his hand, "Who were you talking to?"

Dean grabbed one of the beer bottles, and quickly took a swig, "Charlie."

Sam's eyes lit up in a way Dean hadn't seen since the trails to close the gates of Hell failed, "Charlie, as in, the red headed, geek, Charlie?" Dean nodded his head, " That's great! I can't even remember the last time I talked to her! How is sh- wait. Why was she calling?"

"Some of Abaddon's goons attacked her," Dean said with a sigh, "Abaddon must have gotten information that she was with us. They attacked Charlie in the middle of night. She said she was lucky to make it out alive."

"How the hell did Abaddon connect us to her?"

"No idea Sammy. But I assume some of Crowley's old loyalists let it slip that we had family outside the three of us!"

Sam put his elbows on the table, and rested his head in his hands. A muffled question came out of his mouth: "What if it isn't Charlie."

"It is," Dean replied, trying to reassure both himself and Sam, " It has to be. She said rustic." Dean remembered when Charlie had insisted on having a code word to prove it was her. She had been terrified that a Leviathan would end up taking her body. She had chosen the word rustic for no reason other than it was a word no normal person would say in conversation.

"Is she coming here?" Sam questioned, waving his arm around The Bunker.

"No. Charlie wasn't sure if she was being trailed, so she insisted on meeting us at Maddy's Grill in Lebanon for breakfast tomorrow. Once we clear her we can hightail it back here and lay low until Abaddon's demons are off our trail. It should be secure enough." Dean tried to assure himself.

"Well," Sam said, standing up and stretching, a look of worry still etched onto his face, "If this is going to be our last outing for a while, I'm going to see if Kevin wants to come. I don't even remember the last time he went outside."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dean countered, "I know that Kevin does need some time in the outside world, but if Abaddon got her hands on him..."

"I know. In all honesty though, without the tablet, Kevin is useless. But without Kevin, they won't find the tablet. Even if they did get him, they can't kill him. He's safe, Dean." This time, Dean didn't have anything say against the idea.

Sam flashed a final, wobbly smile at his brother, before heading off to find Kevin.

Honestly, he was worried about his makeshift family. Dean had been unusually solemn. He would smile, a very convincing smile, every time someone was around him. As soon as he thought he was alone, the façade would drop. Dean looked like he was slowly being eaten alive by something. It wasn't just that though. Dean was drinking more than usual, sleeping even less than normal, and spent most of his days reading up on the Knights of Hell.

Kevin was even more worrying. The kid barely left his room. When he did, it was only because his eyes were hurting from trying to read the Angel Tablet for so long. Kevin pretty much only ate when food was being stuffed down his throat. He had to be told to shower and to get some sleep, or he would literally go for days on end without either.

When Charlie had started hunting, he had become worried. When they had first met, after the Leviathan incident, she had wanted to never hear the word hunter again. Now she was traveling across the country, hunting monsters like they did. He didn't want his little sister to suffer like he had. He knew how badly hunting could scar. Physically and mentally.

Cas had shown up at the bunker excited and ready to learn from the two Winchester's. Sam had personally been ready to help Cas adjust to his new human form. He was going to teach him how to eat properly, and all the things that had kept them safe over the years. Instead, the next morning Cas had disappeared. He hadn't even left a note.

His family was falling apart and there wasn't much he could do to help.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Does every dart have holy oil in it!"

The man before him stuttered, "N-No Saymon, sir. I haven't had enough time add the holy oil in y-yet."

"You are easily replaceable Jadry. Don't forget that."

"O-of course, sir." Jadry replied, "I do have good news though, sir."

"And what would that be?" Saymon sneered.

"You said you were looking for a w-witch powerful enough to cast the spell. I think I may have found one. If you hurry, you should be able to get her help before the troops set out. If you have her, taking down the Winchester with an Angel possessing him should be easy. Sir." Jadry responded, hoping he had done the right thing.

A laugh burst from Saymon, "And what is this witch's name?"

"Olivette, High Priestess and Leader of the Grand Coven." Saymon laughed louder this time, the echo of it ringing in Jadry's ears, "If you have the spell, she should be able to cast it. The only reason she has gone unnoticed for so long is she no longer has any spells to cast!"

"Jadry, for someone as stupid as yourself, it is a shock that you, of all people, have found me the perfect candidate. Just for that, you're punishment for siding with Crowley will be cut down by a couple of years."

"But, Saymon! I have done more than just help, I just saved your entire operation!" Jadry whined, glaring at Saymon's back.

"A simple thank you would suffice, but seeing that your manners haven't improved, I think I'll add some time onto your sentence. A couple thousand years should suffice."

Saymon listened to the screams of protest with a smile on his face. With this witch, Olivette, he would finally end the Winchesters, and get The Queen's respect at last.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The two Winchester's and Kevin were patiently waiting outside the restaurant for Charlie to arrive. Surprisingly, it had taken little convincing to get Kevin to join them on the trip to Lebanon. After the usual, ' This is going to end badly,' all Kevin had wanted was the opportunity to hide the tablet. Just in case.

Kevin already looked just a bit happier with the sun beating down on him. He still looked way too pale, skinny, and tired, but the sun was making him look better.

"Hey," Dean exclaimed suddenly, "I think that's Charlie's car!" A small 1989 mustang pulled up to the restaurant. The yellow car had a few dents, and it's paint was worn out. The driver inside didn't look much better.

"Hey Bitches!" Charlie jested with her usual vigor, a smile on her face, "Long time no see!" The girl herself had bed head and was wearing, what looked like, day old clothing. Her makeup wasn't fairing much better.

Kevin nervously stuck out his hand, "Hi, I'm Kevin." Instead of a handshake, Charlie wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. In return, Kevin awkwardly patted her back.

"Not to try and break up this meeting or anything," Sam proclaimed, "But we should probably make sure you, are well, you."

Charlie nodded in agreement. She let them test her without a complaint. In fact, she spent more time looking down the road she had come from than paying attention to the tests.

By time the four made it inside, the breakfast rush had ended. There were several people scattered around the restaurant, all of them looking like normal locals. A man was reading the paper in one of the corners, two men were having breakfast, and a woman was sipping tea and reading a book. Charlie and Dean ended up squishing on one side of a booth, Sam and Kevin on the other side.

"What happened Charlie?" Dean asked when everyone had settled down.

Charlie sighed, and shook her head, "In was working a case down in Minnesota. A poltergeist ended up pretty much destroying an older couple's house. I was able to figure out whose ghost it was, and was able to salt and burn the bones before anyone died. Anyways, I was heading back to my room at this sketchy motel, when I noticed my door open. As in broken open. I grabbed my gun and headed in. I took down two of the four right off, but the other two ganged up on me. They got in a few good hits before I took another one down. The last demon booked it, but before he left, he shouted at me something about Abaddon coming to kill me personally."

"I'm so sorry Charlie," Sam said gently, "Look, we'll stay here for a couple of hours, make sure you weren't followed, and head back to the Bunker from there." Everyone nodded.

"Hi there!" A bubbly voice called from beside them, "My name is Natalie, and I'll be your waiter today. Can I get you guys something to drink?"

Dean was the first to respond, "Well hello there," a smile made its way to his face, "You must be new here, I haven't seen you here before."

Natalie smiled back, "Yep, just got the job here earlier this week."

"That's good! I can't say I've seen very many waiters as attractive as you."

The waiter ducked her head, and shuffled her feet. The grin was still on her face.

"I'm very sorry about my friend here," Charlie apologized, "He's quite the flirt. I'll take a coffee, please."

"Make that two, please." Kevin requested.

"Four, if you don't mind," Sam asked, gesturing to himself and Dean.

The waitress nodded, smiled one last time at Dean, and left to get them their drinks.

"Well," Charlie declared, "I'm going to the washrooms to clean up a little. Pancakes for me, if I'm not back by time the waiter comes back."

As Charlie left, Sam set his eyes on Dean, "Really?"

"Yes," Dean responded, "She was hot. Besides, there are very few girls that can rock the red hair like that! And that body Sam. Think of that body!" Sam only shook his head.

Coffee and breakfast came without a hitch. No one seemed overly suspicious, or looked like they wanted to murder Charlie, so that was a plus.

Turned out that Kevin and Charlie were meant to be friends. The two got along particularly well. They both found it easy to make fun of the Winchesters, and both turned out to be very cautious of their surroundings.

Of course, when everything began to look ok, disaster struck. Dean was coming back from the bathroom when he saw it.

His smoking hot waitress handed the man with the newspaper a slip of paper. It definitely wasn't a receipt judging by how they were handing it to each other. Natalie had slipped it into his pocket as she walked by. The man instantly reached into his pocket to grab it.

He glanced at their table as he read it.

"We need to leave," Dean uttered under his breath as soon as he got back to his table, "Like now. Two o'clock."

Both Sam, and Kevin looked at the man out of the corner of their eyes. Charlie froze.

Sam grabbed his wallet and threw a few twenties on the table, easily enough to cover the cost of their meal. The brothers slipped out of their seats, Charlie and Kevin were not far behind. They barely made it past their booth before Natalie stepped out in front of them, a gun in hand.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," a masculine voice said behind them, "I don't want this to end messily."

Dean groaned in protest, "Of course its Natalie. The hot ones always turn out to be devil worshipers."

"Listen carefully. You are going to put your hands behind your head, and get down on your knees. You are then going to be arrested. You make any moves, I shoot you. Got it?"

The four complied. They all slowly put their hands behind their heads. Charlie and Kevin got on the ground, both with defiant expressions on their face.

Before the brothers went down, Dean whispered one simple word, "Ezekiel."

In an instant, Sam was standing straighter. A flash of blue crossed his eyes.

"Put down the gun," Sam asked calmly.

The redhead snarled, "Get on the ground!"

Instead, a flash of lightning showed the shadow of wings behind Sam. There wasn't much left of them, but it still caused both the gunmen to take a step back. Natalie's eyes were wide.

Sam turned to face his friends, "Cover your ears."

Dean dove to the floor, covering his ears in the process. Charlie and Kevin followed his lead.

Ezekiel turned back to the women, and opened his mouth. Instead of words, a terrible screeching noise came out of his mouth. Both gunmen dropped their guns in order to get their hands over their ears. Windows exploded around the restaurant, anything made of glass shattered within seconds.

When it stopped, Natalie and the man were too disoriented to stop the four from jumping out the nearest window and onto the street.

"Shit!" Dean yelled as he ran past the slashed tires of his car, "Keep running!"

The four hunters didn't stop running, even when guns started to go off. They had made it to an alley a few blocks over before someone got hit.

Sam, who had been holding up the rear end of the group, had collapsed at the start of the alley. Dean had hesitated hearing his brother fall to the ground, but quick thinking sent him after Charlie and Kevin. There was nothing he could do for Sam at the moment, especially since he had no idea how they managed to take down the sorta angel.

By time Dean caught up with the other two, the shots had stopped. The duo had smashed a window of an older car. Charlie was in the process of hot wiring it, while Kevin stood beside her, a gun in hand.

"Where's Sam!" Kevin asked, looking over Dean's shoulder for him.

"Get in the car," Dean ordered, gently pulling the gun out of Kevin's hand. For a moment Kevin didn't move. "Go!" Dean yelled, the engine finally starting up.

Kevin quickly got into the passenger seat. Charlie looked at Dean, waiting for him to get in the car as well.

"Get to The Bunker. Do a full lockdown procedure. Kevin knows what to do."

Charlie looked at him, mouth dropped into an 'O' shape, " What about you?"

Dean gestured his gun at the group of armored people slowly creeping towards them, then at the roofs, where more men were setting up guns. "I'll keep them busy."

Knowing that there was no arguing, Charlie stepped on the gas. The two watched as Dean fired of several shots before going down like his brother had. It wasn't long before the view of Dean being taken away by several black SUV's.

"Ok prophet, any ideas how to lose these guys?" Charlie asked, a small quiver in her voice.

The vehicles surrounded the hunters as Kevin thought. One on each side, and one bringing up the rear.

"Can you go any faster?" Kevin questioned, a plan forming in his head.

"Yes, I think?"

"See that alley up ahead, try and get into it!" Kevin advised, pointing wildly at it.

Charlie patiently waited. The cars around her began to close in, hoping to force them to a stop. Instead, when the alley was less than twenty-five feet away, Charlie shifted gears, and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

The random speed boost got her in front of the cars, and left her enough room to slide into the alley. It wasn't quite so lucky for the others. The car on the right side tried to follow them, causing them to crash into the car on the left. The SUV that had been behind them managed to stop before crashing into the other two. With the alley blocked, the two were home free.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"I'm sorry sir, we lost them," came the regretful voice over the comms.

Steve rubbed his eyes in frustration. The mission had been... Off, from the start.

They had easily found their last known location, Lebanon, Kansas. The town was fairly small, but had a lot of charm. It seemed like the perfect place for a couple of mass murderers to hang out.

The team had split up, asking about the brothers around town. The two were well known at the bars, small grocery stores, and at cafés. Everyone seemed to have the same opinion about the two.

The manager at one of the bars had the biggest option in town on the two, "The Winchesters? Nice guys those two! They're always paying their tip, and are super nice to the waiters!"

"Do you ever think they'd hurt anyone?" Natasha had asked, watching the women for deception.

The manager had rolled her eyes at that, "Look, I have no idea what caused you to think that, but you're wrong if you think they've gone around hurting people. My boy, Lincoln had been bullied for years before Dean stepped in. He had been heading home for the night when he saw Lincoln being beaten in the alley. He stepped in, took their confidence down a few notches, and said to leave him alone. The principal at his school had done nothing about it for years. After Dean was done with them, the bullying stopped. Those guys are the kind of people who watch out for the guys who can't fight back." Her eyes hardened suddenly, "Now you think about what you're accusing those boys of!"

She had been one of many to express their liking of the boys.

They had decided to set up at a local diner that the brothers often went to, hoping to catch a clue to where they were there. Natasha had become a temporary waitress, while Steve had set himself up in the middle of the diner, hoping to catch some information.

The next day luck was in their hands because not only did the Winchester's show up, but so did two of the three others.

It had been normal up to the point where Sam suddenly had wings and could make ears bleed. That had not been in the briefing.

"Cap?" Natasha said quietly, "We need those two. If they leave, who knows what they could do. We should call in Bruce."

Steve sighed. Bruce was their last resort. Fury had clearly ordered that the Winchester's and associates were not to be killed. But they couldn't let Celeste and Kevin get away.

It was time to bring in the Hulk.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Who the hell were those people?" Kevin asked in shock as they left town limits.

"Some sort of demons, leviathan, I don't know!" Charlie yelled back in response.

Kevin shook his head in disagreement, "Monsters, especially demons and leviathan tend to make sure we know who's about to kill them. They didn't have black eyes or overly large mouths. I think they were humans."

Charlie didn't respond. Her heart was pounding too fast. People had been after her since pretty much forever, but these people were different. Government? Military? Cops had been after her before, but no one this big.

"We'll be fi-" Charlie attempted to say, until a, what sounded like, roar, cut her off. She couldn't help it when a shriek left her mouth after glancing in the rear view mirror. Coming up behind them at an alarmingly fast pace, was a giant green monster.

Charlie, for the second time that day, floored it. Even with the car going at top speed, the monster was catching up to them.

"Please tell me you don't see that!" Kevin begged, his head turned to look at the beast behind them. Again Charlie ignored Kevin and focused on not dying by monster.

The green beast, that looked very familiar, suddenly took a giant leap, and landed right behind them. The road instantly tore apart, sending the small car into the ditch.

The car rolled several times, the airbags deploying on the second roll. By the last, both driver and passenger were unconscious.


	5. What Ever Happened to Fury

'What Ever Happened to Fury'

* * *

><p>"JARVIS, on a scale of one to ten, how much did you like England?" Tony asked his A.I while he set up his tests.<p>

The machine responded, its voice soft, " It was lovely, sir. I would rate it an eight out of ten."

"Agreed. JARVIS, book me and Pepper a vacation there."

"Of course sir," the A.I. paused, "Ms. Pots is free next weekend. I have booked flights, and a dinner on Saturday night at Le Gavroche, one of England's most prestigious restaurants. Is there any place in particular you would like to stay?"

Tony didn't hesitate, "Somewhere in London. The best hotel there! Wait, no, let's stay somewhere with a view. Maybe somewhere we can see that Clocktower! That reminds me, book us some tickets to go see a show while we're there."

"Les Miserables and Phantom of the Opera are playing that weekend, sir."

"Let's go with Les Miserables, we haven't seen th-" Tony was cut off with a banging at the door.

"Sorry sir, I'm afraid Director Fury is here," JARVIS explained, "Shall I let him?" With a nod from Tony, the door unlocked and Fury came storming in.

"What part about getting Clara here alive didn't you understand," Fury snarled, glaring at Tony, "She is our only chance to find The Doctor, and if she ends up dead, or in a coma for the rest of her life, how the hell are we going to get information from her." For a moment, Tony swore he saw Fury's good eye, well, change.

Shaking the weird, and unbelievable sight from his head, Tony replied, "Don't worry. At the moment she is under twenty-four seven surveillance from both JARVIS and a Doctor. She's in good hands."

Fury changed from a look of anger to a look pure fury, "I don't care if she's in good hands, all I care about is her giving us the information we need! She could end up dead at the end of this for all I care, but we need that information on The Doctor."

Tony froze in shock. He knew Fury could be scary at times, but had never said things like that, even towards Loki after he had killed Coulson. There was definitely something going on with Fury.

"Don't worry, the results should be coming in soon," Tony said slowly, trying to make sure he didn't set off the proverbial detonator.

The two waited in silence, and even JARVIS seemed to be holding its breath. The Director was pacing, glancing at Tony with an animalistic look, like he was stalking his prey. The few minutes to get the results seemed like hours. For the first time in a long time, Tony left the deafening silence be.

"Sir, the results are ready," JARVIS confirmed.

Tony pulled the holoscreen over to him, and quickly read through the results.

"Good news Fury, there is an unlikely chance that any permanent damage will occur," Tony sighed in relief.

"Explain," The Director asked, foot tapping impatiently.

With a gulp, Tony began his explanation, "Well in order to take Clara down, I used a prototype, that I, call The Bug. Using it is basically a more high tech version of one of your sleep darts. What it does is send an electrical pulse to the brainstem, or in basic terms, the part of the brain that allows you to sleep. The pulse should knock you out for several hours."

"It has been two days Stark!"

"Obviously, but results say there is less than a five percent chance that she'll receive permanent brain damage, or anything close to death. Brain scans show she should be waking up in a few hours, or so."

A sly smile appeared on Fury's face, "Good." With that, he left the room.

"Hey JARVIS?" Tony asked, eyes glued to where Fury had been standing

"Yes, Sir?"

"Find me the nearest liquor cabinet."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Clint would never understand how people could actually like him. Sure, he was totally willing to one on one training, if the newer agents weren't afraid to ask him. He constantly nice to people, if not a little sarcastic, but this was ridiculous.

He was an assassin! People feared him world wide. People should have been too scared to ask him for favours.

But, he couldn't say no to Agent Dawson, he really couldn't. He literally couldn't remember how many times Agent Dawson had covered for him.

The two had met two years after Clint had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. Both had been young, and maybe just a bit too reckless. Dawson had been an Analyst before the infamous "Sao Paulo Incident" happened.

The S.H.I.E.L.D base just outside of Sao Paulo, Brazil, had been compromised by the local militia. At the time it had been a fairly new base. Minimal staff. Little support. Dawson had been a full time analyst there.

Clint had been tracking the militia's movement, trying to find the head of it; Luiz Thiago. The man had assassinated the Brazilian President, and had destroyed half of Brasília in doing so. After months of dead ends, he finally found a lead.

Unfortunately, the lead happened to be gunfire at two o'clock in the morning. Inside the S.H.I.E.L.D base.

Clint had been out of bed, and shooting his bow faster than most people could comprehend what was going on. He didn't let his focus fall, not even for a second. There were too many of them. They had already killed too many.

Clint rounded another corner. He had reached behind his head to grab another arrow, only to find his quiver empty. Wide eyed, he had quickly searched for more weapons, but there was nothing.

Then the sound of footsteps had come from behind him. To this day, he could still remember those taps. The sound of his death.

In the silent hallway he had heard the guns safety click. He didn't even have enough time to turn around.

The sound of three gunshots had echoed down the hall. Clint had waited for the pain, but it never came. When he turned around, he saw two bodies on the ground. The man who had almost killed him (Who later turned out to be Luiz Thiago) and a S.H.I.E.L.D analyst, Logan Dawson to be exact.

Logan had shot Luiz, successfully saving Clint's life. Unfortunately, Luiz had managed to fire off two more shots, both hitting Agent Dawson.

Clint had dragged Dawson to the nearest safe house a couple miles down the road. He had managed to save his life, but he was left with two horrible scars.

The two had been best friends ever since. Clint had even been Logan's best man at his wedding. So really, how could he say no when Dawson had asked for a switch to go see his daughter's piano recital.

Unfortunately, he was stuck with possibly the most boring job on the planet. He was in a little room, just beyond the one way mirror in the Winchesters, and Tran's cell. Middleton had been moved to a cell on the other side of the base with Clara. It was better that way, they had Celeste to use as leverage if anything went wrong, and vise versa.

It was so boring, and quiet that he could even hear the slight buzzing from his hearing aids, and it was driving him crazy. He was almost tempted to take them out so he could focus on his book.

The faint knock four hours into his shift made him glad he didn't. It was so quiet, his aids almost didn't pick it up. He put his book down, and subconsciously ghosted his hand over the knife on his hip.

Clint opened the door, only to see Stark standing there. Honestly, it was a little disappointing. He had been hoping for Natasha. He couldn't even remember the last time the two of them had talked for more than a few minutes between all their S.H.I.E.L.D and Avenger activities.

"Hey Stark, what are you doing he-" Clint was cut off as Tony shoved him into the room, quietly closed the door, and locked it.

Tony glanced around the room, "Is there any cameras?"

"What?" Clint asked in confusion.

"Cameras," Tony gestured around him, "In this room?"

Clint stared at Tony, trying to connect the dots, "I don't think so. There are a few in the cell area though. I'm pretty sure there are some in the hall-"

Tony shushed him with a finger on his lips, "There's something wrong with Fury," Tony whispered, "There was something wrong with his eyes. They weren't normal."

With Tony so close to him, it was impossible to miss the distinct smell coming off of him. The smell of Alcohol.

"Tony, you've been drinking," it wasn't a question.

Stark looked shocked, "What? No!" He paused, "Well yes, I was, but it isn't impairing my judgement, I promise! I hadn't even drunken anything when I saw his eyes! They were like death!"

"Tony, I'm all for going against psychopathic aliens with you, but you are drunk, and talking nonsense. Go home for the night Stark. Talk to me tomorrow when you're sober,' Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He gently lead the complaining Stark to the door.

"Just wait a minute!" Tony yelled, grabbing the edge of the doorway, "You've got to listen to me! Something… Weird is going on here! We need to figure out a pl-" At that point, Clint lost his patience. He shoved Tony out of the room, and slammed the door.

Clint liked Tony. Sometimes. He was a bit of an egomaniac, and thought he needed to know everything about everyone's lives, but he wasn't a bad guy.

After the Battle of New York, Tony had changed. He hadn't known the guy long before the attack, but he had noticed the subtle change in his attitude. He was a lot jumpier, and made sure he had constant contact with someone.

The alcohol was a problem as well. He had heard rumors about Tony's alcohol addiction, but he never assumed it was as bad as it was. It seemed like Tony always had some sort of liquor on him.

Maybe they needed to send him to rehab. A few days in a liquor free zone might do him some good. Maybe they needed to throw an intervention for him. It would be the Avengers, Pepper, and they would even invite Fury, though odds were he wouldn't show up. They would sit him down and make him talk. He would finally let go of whatever feelings were held up inside.

Agent Barton was so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed one of the men inside the room waking up and moving to the one way mirror.

"Where is she!" Dean yelled, startling Clint out of his thoughts, "Where is Charlie!"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D paced around his office, waiting. He avoided the obstacles littered around the floor. He was getting impatient. He had already called Her several times and had gotten no response.

In a fit of frustration, he lifted the silver goblet of his desk, not caring that the liquid inside had spilt over the edges. He yelled the ancient words, not caring if anyone heard.

This time, instead of silence, the liquid inside the glass began to boil. A voice rang out from within.

"Saymon!" the voice screamed, "What the hell do you want!"

Saymon didn't hesitate before speaking, knowing the consequences if he did, "We have Clara Oswald, The Doctor's companion, in our custody, madam. He should be arriving any time now to get her."

"Good," she spat, "I want to keep his soul intact, understand?"

"Of course."

The Women paused, before growling, "What of the Winchesters and Crowley?"

It was Saymon's turn to hesitate, "Well…"

"Spit it out!"

"Well," Saymon gulped, "We have the Winchesters, Tran, and Middleton in custody. No sign f Crowley."

She let out a scream of rage, "I want Crowley, NOW!"

"Don't worry Abaddon, I'll get his location out of the Winchesters, even if I have to beat it out of them," Saymon declared, his eyes turning black.


	6. Scared

Scared

The Doctor was scared. He refused to say it, or even think it that often, but in this moment, he was petrified with fear. He had lost too many friends. There was no way he was losing Clara as well.

The Doctor had left Mrs. Ellis' apartment in a rush, trying to keep calm. Even the TARDIS seemed off as he made his way to the crime scene.

He should have known that sending Clara to Coal Hill School was a bad idea. Anyone could have remembered those details. He had put Clara in the the school that his granddaughter had gone to. The school where his first two companions, Barbara and Ian, had worked. What was wrong with him?

The Doctor took a minute to calm down. He knew that going in too angry wasn't going to get anything done. Besides, Clara wouldn't want him to be angry at people who had done no wrong.

The crime scene was on a residential street. Blue and white police tape cut off both sides of the were four police cruiser parked at either end of the street.

The Doctor pushed passed the onlookers, not bothering to acknowledge the dirty looks people were sending him. He quickly flashed his psychic paper at the officer, and walked down the street. The rest of the officers were spread out throughout the neighborhood.

One kid, around eight years old, was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk; a shock blanket was wrapped carefully around his shoulders. A woman, his mother most likely,was holding him close. He was talking quietly to a short man with blond hair. The Doctor's sonic confirmed that both were human.

"-Then I saw them carry the girl away! I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry for not calling the police. I didn't know if it counted as an emergency or not," the boy sniffled, "I'm so sorry."

The women continued from there, "Roy told me what happened once I got out of the shower, and I called you guys right away."

"Thank you both for your time," the man smiled at the two, and gently ruffled the kid's hair, "Don't worry Roy, you did the right thing by telling your mom."

The man gave the two one last wave before heading back to a group of officers. The Doctor followed closely behind, listening careful to every word said around him. Somebody had to know something.

"Sherlock!" the blond haired man called.

The man in question turned from his spot near, what looked liked, Clara's messenger bag, and stalked over to the man. The Doctor was tempted to run over to it and riffle through it, but that would probably only get him in trouble.

"John, I need to know what the kid told you. Now." Sherlock barked, typing something angrily into his phone.

"You know," John stated matter-of-factly, "I pretty sure the kid would have told you exactly what he told me if you hadn't called him, and I quote, an incompetent idiot for not calling the police."

Sherlock scoffed at that, "Everyone should know to call the police when someone is kidnapped."

"He's eight, Sherlock. Eight." with a sigh, John continued, "Roy said he saw two men talking to Clara. He said that Clara had then proceeded to pull out a bright purple gun and shoot one of the two men with it. She ran, with the other man chasing after her. A few minutes later, the other man got up, and none of them came back past their house."

Sherlock ran his hand roughly through his hair, pacing back and forth, "None of this makes sense! Clara is a teacher, she doesn't make much money. There hasn't even been a ransom call yet! Her apartment shows no signs of drugs or gang involvement, so that doesn't help. And where did she get a purple gun. No one sells purple guns, and no one paints their gun purple!" Sherlock huffed around for a few seconds before continuing, "If those idiotic children hadn't touched the bag, we might have been able to use it to get prints or something!"

Then it dawned on The Doctor. A purple gun.

He was an idiot sometimes. The universe's biggest idiot. He had given Clara a Stunner for times like this; when her life was in danger. How could he have forgotten about that?

He could find her now. He could save her from whatever monster took her. He could bring her home and protect her.

The happiness he felt must have been pretty noticeable because both Sherlock and John were staring at him.

"Sorry," The Doctor sputtered, fumbling for his psychic paper, "I forgot to introduce myself."

He held the psychic paper out in front of him. John leaned forward, reading it slowly. Sherlock, on the other hand, just glared at him.

"British Intelligence?" John questioned, "What are you guys doing here?"

The Doctor couldn't keep a smile off of his face, "That's classified. But thank you for all the help you've given me." With that he pulled the two into a bone crushing hug. He held them for just a bit too long, but he didn't care. He knew how to find Clara, and he had them to thank for that. The Doctor kissed them both on the cheek and raced off towards his T.A.R.D.I.S.

"Well that was the strangest British Intelligence officer I have ever seen," John remarked, staring off after The Doctor.

"The paper was blank John. There was certainly nothing identifying him as British Intelligence," Sherlock replied, his eyes hard.

John gaped at him, about to argue back, but he realized something. He couldn't remember the badge. He remembered it being British intelligence, but he couldn't remember any details about it. He couldn't even remember what name had been printed across the top.

"What the hell just happened?"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The Doctor dance around his T.A.R.D.I.S, pulling up the Stunner's information. The target was literally on the other side of the world, in New York City to be precise. The Doctor hated New York. Literally nothing good ever happened there.

He would not lose Clara like he lost Amy, and Rory. He refused.

Setting the coordinates into the T.A.R.D.I.S, he took off, trying desperately not to let his mind wander. He forced himself to think about Grangief, the planet of a thousand moons. At night, moons hung like stars in the sky.

Before he landed, he quickly turned the T.A.R.D.I.S invisible. The T.A.R.D.I.S strained herself to do such a complicated task, but it had to be done. He had no idea what he was going up against, and nothing could go wrong with him being invisible. He would be patient and watch. He would not be a fool and mess up this plan.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Tony. You're looking a little intoxicated," Natasha pointed out, gently swinging her legs on the table she was sitting on.

"I have to agree with her, Tony," Steve stated, glancing around the workshop with unease, "I would rather you not accidently blow something up."

Tony scoffed at that, "I would not do such a thing. Slightly intoxicated does not mean fully intoxicated. I'm sober enough to work on my suit, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

After their mission in Kansas, Steve and Natasha had made their way to Stark Towers in New York. They would have stayed at the Washington base, but Fury had told them to get some rest, and the beds at the base were like rocks compared to Tony's beds. Besides, New York was only a couple of hours away by quinjet.

They had arrived, ready for some sleep, when JARVIS had informed them that Tony was working on a new suit, while drinking. Their new objective was to not let Tony blow himself up.

"Why don't you just go to bed and finish working on your suit in the morning?" Steve suggested.

Tony glared at him, "I don't how much time we've got. I know what I saw, and what I saw was definitely not human. I need something to fight it with, without it being too conspicuous, and what's better than my world famous Ironman suits? No one will suspect a thing! Well, that is of course, if it will die like a normal human being."

Natasha and Steve glanced at one another, worry etching their features. Tony usually wasn't this

paranoid, or at least didn't show it. What had he seen that had made him this worried?

"Tony, why don't we all just get some rest and talk about this in the morning? It's getting pretty late, and it'll be easier to talk about once you are sober and have gotten a good night sleep," Natasha said gently.

Stark only shook his head in response, "You guys didn't see what I saw. It wasn't… Right. Fury's eyes were just… wrong. He was just wrong."

Natasha's eyebrows knit together, "What do you mean."

"He was wrong, Natasha," Tony fretted, and began pacing, "I'm good at reading people. I've learned to be over the years in order to keep myself safe. And I've been noticing differences about Fury: the way he talks, and walks. It's like he is a completely different person." Tony stopped and looked Natasha in the eye, "And then I saw his eyes turn black. I mean his entire eye was pitch black."

Steve looked a little shocked at his proclamation, and looked at Natasha, eyes begging her to say something that would knock some sense into him.

"Ok, Tony. You've been under a lot of stress recently, I understand that. But I think we need to get you some medic-" Natasha froze mid sentence.

Steve took a step towards her, "Nat, are you ok. You ju-"

The Black Widow shushed him. No one moved. They could hear the quiet ticking of the clock in the corner. There was something else, just a bit louder than the ticking. Footsteps.

In an instant, Natasha had both her guns out pointed towards the glass door. There was a man there, his head hanging low. He looked like he was in his mid thirties. He was dressed in a tweed jacket and bow tie. He looked like a cliche university professor. In his right hand was a metal rod.

The man didn't lift his head as he began to speak, "It was on my bucket list to one day meet the Avengers. They were suppose to be the bravest people who ever walked the Earth, willing to risk their lives for people who couldn't save themselves. At least those are what the tales said. How they were wrong." He paused, his face falling more into the shadows, "Rory and Amy thought you were heroes. The best of the best. Maybe believing in heroes is what killed them. Heroes don't exist, even the ones who pretend to be."

The man stepped forward, slowly lifting his head up. His eyes made everyone freeze. They were old. Very old. They looked as if they had seen a million deaths, and each one hardening his gaze further. Behind the old eyes were rage. A rage that seemed to be begging to be let loose.

"Stay where you are," Natasha demanded, her voice quaking slightly.

The man did as commanded, his eyes wandering over all three of them, "I've lost everything. Everything I have ever loved, and probably everything I will come to love. There are events that I would have given anything to change, but those are a lost cause. This is not. It's not a fixed point in time. I can change whatever happens next, but you have to give her back."

"Sir," Steve said said softly, as if not to startle the man, "We don't know who you are, or who you are looking for. I ask you to put your weapon down so we can figure it peacefully." He didn't notice a pale Tony beside him.

"It's not a weapon," the man muttered, "As for who I am: I go by many names. To some, I am known as Theta Sigma, to others, a god, or a Time Lord. To the dead, I am known as The Warrior. To the living, many call me The Doctor."

Steve heard Natasha take in a quick breath. This was not suppose to happen. They were suppose to have at least a few more days to figure out how to stop him, but now he was literally right on their doorstep. They had no plan, no way to protect themselves.

"You're looking for Clara," Steve stated, "I'll tell you now that she's not here."

"I know that," The Doctor breathed, "I already scanned the entire building. She's not here, but the person who took her is." He slowly pointed his stick at Natasha, then Steve, and then at Tony. He didn't move on from Tony.

"Put the stick down," Natasha threatened, clicking the safety off her gun. The Doctor didn't move, just kept looking down at Tony. "Now!" When he still didn't move, she pulled the trigger.

Steve didn't know what he was expecting. He didn't expect The Doctor to go down with one, or even to two, bullets, but he did expect something to happen. Some blood, a scream of anger, something. He also, most definitely, expected the gun to go off. But none of that happened. All that changed was the look on Natasha's face; it was a look of calm to a look of horror as she realized her only weapon had failed her.

"I don't like guns," The Doctor whispered, before proclaiming louder, "Where is she?"

Tony looked at Steve, a panicked look on his face. If he lied, there was a good chance The Doctor would kill him. If he told the truth, The Doctor might still kill him. He was royally screwed either way.

"Look, Doctor, I have no idea where Clara is!" Tony had decided to lie, trying to covertly signal JARVIS for about the fiftieth time with no results.

The Doctor frowned in his direction. He moved his stick, and pointed it at things around the shop. For a moment, nothing happened, then mass chaos broke loose. Every part of his many Ironman suits that were stored in here came to life. They instantly began shooting their repulsor rays at the three Avengers, but didn't even look in The Doctor's direction.

The Avengers managed to find cover behind I turned table. They could feel every shot the weapons made rattle the table. Leaving their cover was a death sentence.

"What the hell did he do to my armour!" Tony yelled over the chaos, his hands working his hair into wild mess.

Natasha peeked her head over the table and practically threw herself to the ground to avoid getting hit by one of Tony's deadly weapons,

"He's trying to gain access to the computer," Natasha spoke in a deadly soft tone, "He's at the wrong angle, I can't take him out."

Steve sighed in frustration, trying to ignore the destruction around him, "JARVIS will protect the files on the computer, right Tony?"

He shook his head in response, "I haven't been able to contact him. He's been shut down, and I have no idea how."

The spider's eyes hardened even more, "He absolutely cannot get a hold of anything on there. If he finds out where Clara is being held, a lot of people will die." She took at deep breath, steadying herself. Before either Steve or Tony could move, Natasha flung herself over the table towards The Doctor. Both Steve and Tony had screamed in horror as they watched their friend surely die.

The two Avengers waited for the screams of pain, but there was nothing. In fact, there was no noise at all. They slowly peeked their heads over the table, preparing for the worst.

Natasha was standing there, hands clenched in fists. Her eyes were filled with an overwhelming amount of rage.

"He's gone."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Doctor almost wanted to dance in glee. Almost. After several minutes of searching through the computer, via the sonic screwdriver, he had found where Clara was, and he was not happy. She was being kept captive in a S.H.I.E.L.D facility in Washington. There were two cell units there, but it hadn't specified which one she was in.

In particular, he was not happy about who had taken her: S.H.I.E.L.D. Sure, they weren't friends, but they were most definitely not enemies. They had made that very clear to each other the first time they met.

The Doctor had been travelling with Amy and Rory. They were suppose to have landed in England, right on the Pond's front doorstep. Unfortunately, the T.A.R.D.I.S had different plans.

The three adventurers had landed on a brand new S.H.I.E.L.D helicarrier, just a few months after the Battle of New York. To say that they were unimpressed would be an understatement.

The kerfuffle ended with a truce of sorts. S.H.I.E.L.D promised not to bother him if, in a dire emergency, he would help. They had promised.

Either Director Fury had retired and his replacement had disregarded the hours of negotiation that happened, or something weird was going on. Something no-human.

Either way, someone was going to pay for taking his Impossible Girl.


	7. One For Many

Dean was having some seriously funky dreams, and that was saying a lot due to the fact that he had faced some seriously weird things in his life. He dreamed of a man who went in and out of focus until he became a giant green beast that destroyed everything in its path. Buildings, cars, even people. The city around him, New York, was being crushed by it. A young girl, no older than twelve stood in the streets, frozen to the spot as the beast came towards her. Her red hair flew behind her, seeming almost like flames.

Dean tried to run towards her, yell, scream, anything to get her to move, but he too was frozen. Then she began to grow. Her flaming hair got shorter, and her features grew older. A gun appeared out of nowhere, and it's muzzle flashed. It was aimed at the beast, but it did nothing to slow it down. He tried calling out again, but it was pointless. He could do nothing as the thing grabbed her and crushed her.

When he woke up, he was in the restaurant. People chattered around him, enjoying the sunny day.

"Morning sunshine," Sam laughed at him.

"Wha-? How long was I out?" Dean asked, shaking his head, trying to wake himself up.

"Only an hour sleeping beauty," Charlie teased, " oh, and just to let you know, Sam still hasn't convinced me that the attackers in New York were demons."

And on went Charlie again, but Dean couldn't focus on her. The women in his dream had seemed familiar. Where he has seen her, he just could put a finger on it.

"Would you like a refill on your coffee?"

Nodding his head and rubbing his eyes, Dean simply said, "Yes."

"Of course Dean, I'll be right back with your refill," Dean snapped his head up when she said his name. All he saw was short, curly, red, hair turning the corner and leaving the restaurant.

Shoving Sam out of the booth, and ignoring his shouts of protest, Dean raced after the women. Her yellow waiter dress had changed into a black skin tight suit, and high heels.

"Hey!" Dean yelled after the waiter, "Wait!"

Dean charged after her, attemping to catch up. She had been in his dream, showed up in the restaurant, and managed to changed into something completely different in under a minute. She could be anyone, and he had to know.

He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face him. What he saw made him instantly let go of her. The women was now a man. He was dressed in some sort of costume, like a giant American Flag.

He looked at Dean with pity in his eyes, "We are also very sorry we had to do this, it is for safety measures."

Four gun shots sounded, and the world shattered like glass around him.

* * *

><p>Dean was in a sickeningly, bright, white room. His eyes could hardly stay open without wanting to close again. It gave him a chance to think, but he needed to find where his family was.<p>

He remembered the people with the guns, they weren't demons or angels, they would have just plain out killed them, and it wasn't normal police work. He had no idea who wanted them and why.

He forced his eyes open again and looked around the room. Beside him was Kevin, fast asleep, and beside Kevin was Sam. Flipping his head over to the other direction was exceedingly painful, but he had to find Charlie. She wasn't on the other side of him either.

That's when the panic began to really set in. They had been kidnapped, and his friend was MIA. She could easily have been transported to Timbuktu. He looked around the room again, his neck becoming a little less stiff, searching for an exit of some kind. In fact he saw two, sort of. One was a heavy metal door and the other was a one way glass.

Dean began the painful process of sitting up. While doing so, he sent a silent prayer to Cas, asking him to find them. He moved his way from the bed, and headed to the door. It was a slow and painful process, and he knew even before he got there that it would be a wasted effort trying to open it. Of course his prediction was right. He banged on it anyway and yelled for Charlie, but nothing happened.

Next he tried the glass. At this point he just wanted to fall asleep again, none the less, he banged on the glass and yelled.

"Where's Charlie, where is she!"

Nothing happened. Either there was no one behind the glass, or they were choosing to ignore him.

With no more options left, he attempted to wake Sam and Kevin. They were both in a deep sleep, not waking to anything. At this point, Dean was about to fall asleep again. he couldn't help it. The drugs, or whatever they made him take was wearing him out. Closing his eyes he nearly fell asleep in a standing position, but the loud bang of the door opening jerked him back to reality.

A man pushed in a wheelchair, a high class one at that.

"Hello Dean, my name is Agent Barton, and I am here to assist you back to my boss. If you cooperate, you'll find all your friends in a safe position, ok? Trust me on this, sitting down will make you feel batter anyways." Barton told Dean, trying to forget how he knew that.

Dean wanted to tun out the door that was hanging wide open behind the agent, but he knew he was too weak to. He looked at the man with the wheelchair. He would take him down if he tried to run.

He looked at Sam and Kevin lying helpless in their beds. If he didn't cooperate, it would be easy for this guy to kill them. Even so, to cooperate with this man would be like surrendering, and he wasn't going to do that.

Agent Barton seemed to be getting impatient after a minute of him not moving or saying anything. After another few seconds, Agent Barton walked forward, grabbed his, pulled him to the wheelchair and forced him to sit down in it. He then proceeded to handcuff both his wrists to the arm rests.

"I hope you realize that if you had just sat down in the chair, we wouldn't have had to handcuff you, right?" Agent Barton stated. "Now I'm going to give you a shot of adrenalin to get you going, so you can actually function, ok? Ok."

From his jacket pocket, the agent pulled a needle, and a small bottle of liquid. He pulled the plastic off from the needle, and filled the syringe with liquid. Dean watched as he inserted it into his arm and pull it out. He still hadn't said a word.

* * *

><p>The two of them had been wandering the hallways for what felt like forever. The only good news was he was actual able to focus after the shot the agent had given him. Now he only had two thoughts on his mind, how the heck does a tranquilizer knock out an angel, and how the heck were they going to get out out of here.<p>

There was easily a couple hundred 'agents' in the hallways they had walked down alone. If they were to escape they would need an angel with grace, and the only one they had was out of the match. They were screwed.

Agent Barton turned the wheelchair around the corner and stopped it in front of a large set of oak doors.

"Well, we're here," Agent Barton said, looking down both sides of the hallway, then whispered in Deans ear, "Tread lightly, Fury can be a little, unpleasant."

Then he opened the doors, and pushed him in. Inside was a simple office, filled with several shelves, a desk, and three chairs. Behind the desk in one of the chairs was what Agent Barton must have been referring to when he said Fury.

"Dean Winchester." the man stated from behind the desk. He looked up from his files on top his desk, his one good eye studying him, "Barton, leave."

Looking at Fury in confusion, Clint simply nodded and left, closing the doors behind him.

After a few seconds Fury opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a file. "You know what? You Winchesters always seem to be creating problems. You've murdered over two hundred civilians between you two and your father. Either being a psychopath is passed down from generation to generation, or being a psychopath is taught. It doesn't matter now that your in SHIELD custody."

Things began to click in Deans mind. Three things in fact. The first thing was, these people did not mess around. They knew about even his fathers killing habits. Two, Agent Barton had been right, this man was beginning to freak him out a bit. He had a glitter in his eye that was really unnatural. And three, this man was a demon. Small piles of sulfur littered the room, and an unpleasant smell filled the room.

"You're lucky that you're the first one up. I would have hated to tell your lovely friend Charlie that you were going to stay here for a long while. Don't worry, you will all be taken care of."

"By taken care of, you mean kill right?" Dean asked, speaking for the first time since he was unable to find Charlie.

Tsking, Fury's eyes turned black, "I see you figured it out. But I wouldn't sweat it, you still have time to say your goodbyes. Abaddon wants to execute you personally after your beheading her stunt. Happily for me though, I get to find out where Crowley is, whether you are willing to tell or not."

Cracking his knuckles, the demon walked towards him, "You know, it was Crowley who put me here in the first place, told me to let this meat suit be in control, not to make myself known. He wanted me to watch from a far. Then Abaddon came along and told me if I switched sides, she would let me be in complete control of this meat suit. I gladly accepted. Now tell me where Crowley is!"

That's when he threw his first punch. The ring on the demons finger cut into his flesh. The demon threw punch after punch at Dean, his ring repeatedly tearing into his skin. There was nothing Dean could do to stop it. His handcuffed hands couldn't deflect the blows, all his weapons were gone. The demon kept yelling something, but his ears were ringing to loudly to hear him.

He had never really believed in miracles until a bright red light filled the room, and a far of sound of sirens. The demon stopped his punching and looked up at the door.

"Stay here," he whispered, knowing Dean couldn't move anyways.

Fury left the room, leaving Dean sitting there, half conscious. The world was spinning around him, the siren noise was fading, and slowly he slipped unconscious from the pain.

* * *

><p>Hawkeye had seen everything, well close enough to everything. It had all started when Dean had awoken.<p>

Clint had gone to tell Fury about Dean waking up, but had seen something odd on the hallway wall. A smear of blood. It was expected to see some scrapes of blood on walls, but this was fresh, as in still wet fresh.

Clint had followed the blood, what was left of it (it had been well cleaned up) till he came across office doors. Nick Fury's office doors. He had known something was up then and there for two reasons. One, if Fury was hurt, why would he go back to his office when there was a first aid station less than fifty feet away from where the first blood was found. Secondly, Nick Fury never got hurt. People feared him so much that most peopled cowered in fear of him.

So, Hawkeye did what he was famous for, he went to the vents. Hoisting himself up inside the nearest vent, he crawled his way to the small opening that went into the Fury's office. What he saw completely disturbed him, and that took a lot.

Agent Dawson was lying on the floor, his jugular cut. Several other stab wounds covered the body. That wasn't even the disturbing part. Director Fury was beside the body, holding a goblet underneath Agent Dawson's bleeding neck.

Once it was full, Fury set the goblet down on his desk, and looked down at it. Clint was outraged and shocked. He didn't know what would posses Fury to do this. Clint waited till Fury moved or did something so he could sneak away, but he just kept staring at the cup.

Suddenly a voice came out of the goblet, a cruel nasty voice.

"Saymon!" the voice screeched from the goblet, " What is so important!"

"We have Clara Oswald, The Doctor's companion. He should be arriving soon," Fury replied.

"Good, I want his soul intact. What about the Winchester's and Crowley?"

"The Winchesters are in our hands now, Crowley is still out there." Fury/Saymon said sheepishly.

There was a moment of silence, then the angers voice yelled back, extreme anger in its voice, "I want Crowley!" it screamed, blood spilling over the edges.

"I know Abaddon, I'll get where Crowley is from the Winchesters if it's the last thing I do," Fury snarled, his eyes turning black.

That's when Clint left, and he left fast. He ran as far away as he could from that room. When he finally found someplace peaceful, he nearly threw up. It was like Loki's possession all over again. Fury wasn't in control of himself. He wasn't. He wasn't. Or was he?

Either way, the people they had taken in were in serious danger. Clara, Charlie, Sam, Kevin, and Dean. He needed to think of something to do, and fast.

Clint did two things he would regret. He called Fury, and did what he asked

"Dean's awake, sir. Should I bring him to you?" Clint asked as soon as the thing possessing Fury picked up.

"Yes," he simply said before hanging up.

Clint had to listen to Fury. By doing so he was creating time to get the others out of the base. Next he called Bruce while speed walking through the halls. He didn't pick up after the first, second, or third ring. All Clint could think about was how much time was running out.

"Hello?" a confused voice came out of the phone.

"Bruce, please listen carefully. I need you to go down to holding cell one and get the two girls out of the base." Clint started, but was interrupted.

"Hold on Clint, your asking me to take the people out of the holding cell, that we put there, and just leave?" Bruce asked, getting more confused by the second.

"Yes! If you have an extra hand like Nat, or Cap get the boys out of holding cell one."

"There was a freak lightning storm not far from here. It could be Thor." Bruce replied.

"If he comes, get him to help you get the prisoners out of here. Take my car and meet me at Glenwood Park. Stay in the parking lot and keep your head down, ok?"

"What's going on Clint?" Banner asked, not really sure what was going on.

"I'll explain everything later, just do it please!" and then Clint hung up. He stopped outside the door that led to holding cell one. He grabbed one of the wheelchairs from the closet next to it, as well as a shot of adrenaline and two sets of handcuffs.

Sighing, Clint walked inside. He didn't want to risk the life of this man, even if he was a murderer, that he still didn't know, he had already taken too many lives. He would come back and get him out if the base too, but for now, he had to go to Fury. One for many he thought before walking into the room, one for many.

* * *

><p>Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful comments, and all the favorites and follows! I hope you guys enjoyed! I will be hopefully updating in a week or so, so... Have a great week!<p> 


	8. Run

(This chapter takes place just after Clint's POV in the last chapter)

Run

"Pick up, Pick up, pick up!" a voice whispered not far from Clara's ear. "Hi Clint this is Bruce again. Please pick up your phone and explain to me what is going on!" the sound of a phone hanging up followed.

Clara didn't move a muscle. Fear ran through her veins, making her feel almost paralyzed. She didn't recognize the voice that was so close to her ear, and the name Clint struck fear too, it was one of her kidnappers names.

That's when she realized what happened, she had been kidnapped. Kidnapped right out of the school. She was kidnapped by humans. That terrified her more than anything, she was kidnapped by her own kind, people she was suppose to trust.

Clara had to find out where she was. She had too. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would be able to find a telephone and be able to contact the Doctor. So, slowly, Clara opened her eyes a crack.

She was in a grey hallway, pretty much top to bottom. It seemed almost like a military base, though she prayed it wasn't. That is when Clara realized that she in someone's arms, her head against someone chest. An arm was looped under her knees and around the middle of her back.

Clara closed her eyes again, hoping that this was just some twisted dream. She felt the man holding her move his arm, most likely reaching to grab his phone, proving this wasn't a dream. The sounds of another number being dialed came from the phone again, this time even closer to her ear. There was more movement, other than the steady walking one, that came from 'Bruce' putting the phone back to his ear.

"Please, please, please pick up!" Bruce mumbled under his breath, "Maria! Hi! It's Bruce calling and I was just wondering if Thor was here?" there was incoherent string of words coming from the phone before Bruce replied with "He is? That's great! Can you send him down to my lab, he knows where it is so he doesn't need an escort. Thanks so much Maria!"

Thor? What kind of name was that? It sounded familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on where she heard it from. Maybe it was some executioner getting ready to kill her, or ready to get information on her about The Doctor. She hoped and hoped that maybe he was bases electrician or something, but that was unlikely. It was more likely that she was going to die today.

Clara did something in that moment she knew she would regret. She was scared though. She had just been kidnapped, she was in some strange building, with someone stranger holding her, with some new stranger possibly coming to kill her. Clara did what anyone would have done, she swung her fist, hitting the man in the jaw.

Almost instantly he dropped her, leaving her to hit the cold, hard floor. The man, Bruce by the sounds of the phone call, was holding the place where her fist had hit his jaw. He was visibly shaking, looking angry and confused at the same time.

Clara took this moment to book it, not bothering to look back to see if he was ok. She knew she wouldn't make it very far. She was still in her dress, with no shoes, and her legs were shaking terribly. Still she ran using the wall as support. Clara rounded what felt like dozens of corners, praying that there was no one around any corners. Sadly though, luck never lasts for long.

Rounding what felt like the hundredth corner, Clara, still running, slammed into something, knocking her off balance. Arms grabbed her, stopping her from dropping to the floor.

"I am very sorry!" a deep male voice apologized. The man had long blond hair and had some serious muscle.

"Please just let me go!" Clara tried to shout, but it only came out as a whisper.

The man opened his mouth to reply, his arms still wrapped, till Bruce came around the corner, nearly hitting them as well.

"Thor!" he smiled kindly at the man with the blond hair before turning to Clara, his smile fading, "Clara, please just listen before running off again, I can explain everything, you just need to give me some time!"

Thor seemed confused, not that he shouldn't be. He also didn't seem to be noticing Clara struggling in his arms, desperate to be free.

"No! Please just let me go!" Clara tried again, her voice louder than last time. She was now trapped with the man that would possibly be killing her. This was Thor, the man with what looked like armour on and with nicer hair than she had, "Please I just want to go home."

"Clara, you have to listen to me. You're in danger. I'm trying to get you out of here, and I'm asking that you trust me. Just for a little while, you can't get out of here on your own, and you know that. Myself and Thor will get you and a few others out so that you're all safe. From there you can phone your friend and get a lift home. Ok?"

Clara stopped struggling against Thor's grip, looking at Bruce.

"Why should I trust you? You kidnapped me!" Clara stated.

"Like I said, I'm your only hope of getting out of here."

Clara didn't respond right away, obviously thinking. She didn't have much choice but to trust Bruce. It was becoming more and more obvious that this was a military base of some sort. With that in mind her chances of escape lessened and the more likely the chances of her death rose.

"Ok," Clara decided, her voice a lot smaller than she hoped it would be.

Bruce looked surprised at her agreement, and instantly told Thor to let go of her. Clara didn't run. She could have, but it would have been pointless.

"Thor I need you to go down to holding cell two and get the two people that are in there, but no one must know what you are doing. If you see anyone, hide and dont get caught. I'll meet you back here and I'll take you out to the parking lot." Bruce gave Thor the route to the cell, sending him after whoever the two boys were

Bruce turned to Clara giving her a small smile, "I'm Bruce Banner by the way, and that was Thor Odinson."

Clara nodded her head, feeling exhausted for some reason. She let Bruce gently push her forward. They walked in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only sound.

"We just need to go a little farther," Bruce muttered under his breath. At the end of the hallway was a door with the word 'EXIT' over top. The two kept walking, pushing right through it.

It led into a bright parking lot, the sun warming the cars. It looked like any normal parking lot, and looking behind her the building looking the same. It looked like a normal office building.

"Where am I?" Clara asked Bruce, stifling a yawn.

"Washington," he replied simply.

Clara didn't say anything, but on the inside she was screaming. She was an ocean away from home without The Doctor. She didn't even have any money.

The two stopped in front of a silver car. Bruce got out a set of keys, unlocking it. He opened the back door gesturing her to get in.

"I need to go find Thor and get a few things. I'll be back, just duck down if you see anyone, ok?"

"Ok," Clara replied, hoping he really would come back.

Bruce smiled one last time before closing the door and heeded back towards the building. Clara watched as he took back his shoe that was holding the door open. She waited, and waited for Bruce or Thor to return, but they never returned.

All hopes broke when an alarm sounded, loud enough for her to hear outside the building. A bright red light lit up above the door. The sound kept going, and the red light stayed lit.

Nothing happened, not for what felt like hours. Then, the top of the building exploded, spraying the ground with with large pieces debris and crushing the car Clara was in. The last thing she remembered seeing was a bloody leg and a large green hand lifting the debris off of the car.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Whose POV do you want to see next?<p> 


	9. Haunted

Haunted

Kevin missed normalcy. He missed his girlfriend, he missed his mom, hell, he even missed his dad that left years ago. He missed his entire life before becoming a prophet. All he wanted was that back, his home, his mom, his amazing girlfriend, even school. He would even go for The Bunker right now.

These thoughts raced through his head as he sat on the bed, legs pulled up to his chest. He was alone in a strange place, kidnapped by demons, or something worse. On his right an empty bed sent chills up his spine. He assumed Dean had been there. Why would only he and Sam be in here, but not Dean?

On his left Sam laid on a similar bed. It was just as haunted as Dean's bed. Sam was deathly still, Kevin hadn't seen him move since he woke up. He tried not to assume the worst, but he was still terrified that Sam was no longer breathing next to him.

If Sam really was dead he was really alone. Kevin couldn't fight like the Winchesters could, he could barely shoot a gun. He would never get out of here, at least not alive.

"Sam?" Kevin called for the umpteenth time, hoping to see his friend move, or even yell at Kevin to leave him alone, but nothing.

Kevin swung his legs off the bed and let his feet hit the floor. He paused for a moment, waiting for sirens to go off and demons to storm the room. After a moment of waiting he took a step towards Sam, then another, till he was standing above Sam.

"Sam, please wake up!" Kevin gently shook his arm. Still no movement. Kevin moved his hand above Sam's mouth, hoping to feel a breath. Nothing. "Sam! Don't leave me!" He shook Sam again, harder than before, "Sam don't die on me! I can't get out of here without you!"

Kevin kept shaking him, and Sam kept laying still. Finally he stepped back, leaving a cold Sam behind.

"Cas?" Kevin asked, looking towards the roof, "I know you don't have your grace and stuff, but we're in trouble. I don't know where Dean is, I think Sam might be gone, and I'm all alone. I don't know what to do. Please help me. Please."

* * *

><p>Cas had never wanted his wings more than now. His only friends were in danger and he was stuck in traffic outside Washington, in a stolen car. The only good thing about this was at least he had his grace, sort of.<p>

It seemed like no one was moving, even in the rush he was in. He didn't know how they could possibly be so slow, you just put your foot on the left pedal and you'd move forward. So how could they be so slow?

Then there was the person behind him, constantly honking his horn. Cas didn't understand why he couldn't be patient, he had more important business than who ever was behind him, and he was calm.

Cas sighed in relief as the cars in front of him started moving forward. He could see the exit coming up, it was only a few cars away! The line moved a bit more, and he was up the ramp! He instantly stepped as hard as he could on the gas, trying not to hit anyone. He was following his internal map, pinpointing where the prayers had come from.

It took him less than five minutes to find the building where his friends were. It was a high, grey circular building, with several parking garages around it. Cas parked across the street, eyeing the building the entire time.

Horns blared as Cas crossed the street. He was focused on the building looking for any angel repelling runes. Nothing strange stood out, it was like any other building in the city.

Cas began his walk across the bridge connecting the building and the street. It was quiet, no cars were crossing, and no one was stopping him. He didn't find it odd, or even off, just peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Cas remembered hearing Sam say that once, and for the first time he understood that. Once he got inside, all hell was going to break loose. He was not going to abandon his friends again.

Castiel by passed the bridge security easily, a simple tap on the guards head and it was as if he was never there. Though he did feel something as he used his new grace, a stirring in the pit of his stomach. It felt wrong; uncomfortable. He decided to ignore it, blaming it on the settling of the new grace.

No one noticed as he entered the building. Everyone was too busy talking on their phones, checking slips of paper, or in such a hurry they had no time to notice anything off. Cas also noticed that there was no demons, ghosts, or really anything unnatural in the lobby of the building. Just humans.

The angel followed his senses, locating where the prayers had come from. It was like a maze the building. Dead ends, doors with no locks that didn't open, it was like it was made to confuse.

"Hey!" a voice yelled behind Cas.

Without thinking about it, Cas turned around, and went face to face with man behind him. He was young, yearly twenties by the looks of it. From the distance of about ten feet away, Cas made out that the man had blonde hair, and blue eyes. He was in simple jeans, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket. His hands were stained a dark shade of black.

"Have you seen a man, mid twenties, tweed jacket, kind of looks like a professor?" the man asked, not seeming to worried about the man with the trench coat in front of him.

"No I haven't, sorry," Cas replied, hoping the man didn't notice how worried he was.

"Thanks anyways," the man sighed. He turned around, flashing the shield that was on his back to Cas, before twisting back around, a confused expression on his face, "Have we met before?"

Panic began to settle in. The man could have seen him anywhere. When he became 'god,' and made almost every news channel, he could have seen him when he was a fake FBI Agent, or even just wandering around when he had no place to go after he fell from heaven. Then again, it could have just been a case mistaken identity.

Cas pushed the panic and responded in a way he hoped the Winchesters would have, "No, I don't think so."

Nodding his head, the man replied, "Ok. I'm usually pretty good with faces, and I thought you looked familiar for a second." He paused as if contemplating his next words, "I'm Steve Rodgers by the way."

"Cas," Castiel replied, knowing that not saying a name could be suspicious.

Steve smiled and turned again. He took several steps, and stopped again, his body suddenly getting tense. Cas had seen this before, in almost every battle. When they got tense, they were preparing for an attack.

Steve moved faster than Cas thought he would be able to. The red, blue, and white shield was ripping through the air before Cas even had a chance to move. It hit him at top speed, slamming him into the wall. Pain tore through his body, broken ribs and internal bleeding the cause of it. Steve was fast, and obviously strong, and Cas knew in order to get to friends, he would have to get rid of Steve.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you guys for your patience, I know I suck at updating! The next chapter with be action packed, and I hope I can fill your expectations with a Cas and Steve fight!**


	10. Fate

**Fate**

Steve should have known as soon as he saw the man that things were going to go terribly wrong. The man had looked familiar the moment Steve set his eyes on him, but he had just assumed it was one of the many people he passed everyday at the base. That wasn't the only red flag though. The man wasn't wearing the simple, white, security bypass card that everyone needed to get pass the gates. Then there was the way the man was looking at him, like he was nervous answering his questions. All of this should have added up, but Steve was too busy trying to find The Doctor.

It had taken Tony the night to figure out where The Doctor had gone, and by time they had figured it out, they assumed that he had the nights lead on them. They had split up as soon as they had gotten to the base, hoping to have found anyone who had seen the tweed wearing alien. That's how he had ended up meeting the man.

It wasn't until he turned around that everything clicked together. The man looked familiar because it was one of the people working with the Winchesters, and he was here to break them out.

Steve considered his options. Jimmy was small, not very muscular, and didn't look like he could run very fast. He could run and take him out, but over the years Steve had learned not underestimate people, and he wasn't about to throw that lesson to waste.

Steve tensed, remembering all his training from the war. Wanting to get this over with as fast as possible, he reached behind him and sent his shield flying towards Jimmy. There was a sickening crunch and a thump. Steve turned at the last second to catch the shield, seeing his work.

Jimmy layed crumpled on the floor, and even from how far away he stood, Steve could tell how much pain he would be in. Shield at the ready, Steve headed towards Jimmy, ready to arrest the man. It wouldn't be too difficult, he looked out cold, and broken. At least those were his thoughts until Jimmy slowly stood up.

Steve took a step back in shock. Novak didn't seem to be in any sort of pain. He stood facing Steve, his left side of his body lower than his right from the sheer force of Steve's shield hitting him. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth. Jimmy Novak looked like he had returned from the dead.

Steve almost ran at what happened next, and he had seen some pretty strange things. The lights flickered for a moment then a shadows began to dance. Out of Jimmy's back shadowy like objects emerged. As they spread out, Steve realized that they were wings, very broken wings. Only a few feathers clung to the bones.

"I am Castiel angel of The Lord. I am here for my friends, leave now and let me be, and we can both be on our way." Jimmy said, giving Steve a choice, his voice seeming more powerful than before.

Steve didn't hesitate to respond," I've dealt with some pretty shady figures, and you aren't any different. You know I can't let you go, it's your choice now. Come with me peacefully, or try and fight." Steve knew he sounded stronger than he felt. This man was either crazy, or was completely honest, or a crazy killer, none of which satisfied him.

Jimmy struck faster than possible. Steve barely had a chance to raise his shield before the weapon he was holding struck. It was a long, silver, knife like object that looked rather dull, but that was another thing Steve wasn't going to underestimate.

Castiel stepped back and kicked Steve in the stomach, winding him. Steve bent over, regaining his breath From the powerful kick. Castiel went for another blow, his knife aimed for Steve's bowed head. This time Steve managed to avoid it this time, rolling out of the way.

Seconds later the next blow came, thankfully deflecting off of Steve's shield. Using the small moment when the knife rested on his shield, Steve shoved his shield back, knocking Jimmy off balance. Using his change from defense to offense he began to attacking using the edge of his shield and his right fist. Many of his blows hit Jimmy, but he wasn't going down.

As Steve threw another punch, a ringing sound came from his ear. Trying to ignore it, Steve kept his fist flying. Jimmy still didn't show signs of tiring out, every time he was down he got right back up, injuries seeming to heal themselves.

Finally the ringing got the better of Rodgers. He paused for a second and pressed his fingers to his ear, accepting the call.

"Took you long enough Capsicle! I've been trying to reach you forever!" Tony complained through the earpiece.

"Hate to agree with Tony, but even for you that took an exceptionally long time," Natasha's smooth voice came through too.

Captain Rodgers would have replied, but in that small moment he had been distracted Jimmy had gotten to his feet and was now the attacker.

"What is going on Cap? Did you get yourself locked in a cupboard?" Tony asked, laughing at his own comment.

Dodging another knife attack, Steve took a moment to answer, "Tony, I am a little busy right now, can we talk about this later please?"

"Steve," Natasha's hardened voice came through, "What is going on?"

Steve didn't respond, he couldn't. He should have been able to see the attack coming. Jimmy had faked a high attack, and naturally he had lifted his shield to defend himself. What he didn't see coming was Jimmy lowering his knife and ramming it threw his stomach.

His shield arm dropped instantly. He had been right about the knife, it looked dull, but it was wickedly sharp. He didn't really feel it at first, it was like a numbing pain. His voice didn't seem to work, and he was off balance, the world swirling around him.

Jimmy didn't let him fall. He grabbed Steve in a sort of hug and gently lowered him to the ground and gently set him down. He pulled the knife out quick, and that's when the pain settled in. Every part of his body seemed to burn; not a sound came out of his mouth.

"You have a good heart," Jimmy said quietly, sadly, "There's not a whole lot of people like that anymore. I hope that you get a chance to make it, I can only leave it to whoever decides the fates of others now. All I can do now is lessen the pain, I can't let you stop me, too many lives are at risk if I let you go. Without a prophet, I may never be able to return home. I am so sorry." Jimmy touched his hand to Steve's forehead.

Steve didn't understand a lot of what Jimmy said, or why he said those things, but what he did know is that the pain stopped as soon as Jimmy touched him. He wasn't dead, but the pain dulled to an aching throb. Lifting his hand from Steve's head, Jimmy walked away.

Steve didn't want Jimmy to leave. It had always been one of his fears to die alone. When he was younger the winter was the worst time of the year. He could never get warm, and his asthma had restricted him from even breathing. He was scared that one day he would be on deaths doorstep, and no one would be there with him and he would go alone. His fears got worse once his parents died. Bucky was the only person left after that he wanted by his side when he died. Even during the winters when he looked and felt that way and Bucky was by his side all the time he was scared. He was scared of Bucky just abandoning his sick friend.

Now his worst fears were coming true. This part of the SHIELD complex wasn't used a lot, construction keeping most people away, even though it hadn't even started yet. He could hear the voices of his friends off in the distance, yelling for him, begging him to answer.

Instead Steve laid there, looking at what possibly could be his dying sight. A pristine white roof slowly faded away into darkness.

That was the moment in which Captain Steve Rodgers heart stopped beating.


	11. What Ever Happened To Steve

**What Ever Happened to Steve**

"Stark, if you don't shut it now I will make you suffer." Natasha threatened, keeping her voice low.

"Come on Nat, admit it. I'm definitely the hottest!" Tony replied smugly.

"Just drop it Tony. We are looking for The Doctor, not comparing who is the hottest Avenger. This is serious, he's at the biggest SHIELD base in the world. There are some serious prisoners here that if he let go would cause a lot of damage. So grow up for two seconds Tony and focus!" Natasha snapped.

"Ooh, kitties got some claws!" Tony joked, laughing to himself.

"Stark!" Steve cut in, "Nat's right. This could be our last chance to get whoever this Doctor is. That was the point of getting Clara, right? If we don't get him now, he could disappear for another fifty years and we'll never figure out who this guy is."

"Your just mad because The Doctor melted your favorite handgun," Stark mumbled.

Feeling beyond frustrated, Natasha replied simply, "Your not the hottest by far, Thor wins in that department and Pepper agrees" Tony didn't say a word after that.

Natasha was left to her own thoughts wandering around the East side of the building. The three of them had split up in the Washington SHIELD base after Tony had figured out why the Doctor had hacked in his computer. He was after his friend Clara. The three were connected by earpieces that the other Avengers could join when they found them.

Natasha began to wonder if anyone liked her enough that if she got in some sort of trouble like that they would stop at nothing to get her back. Barton might, but he was different after Loki possessed him. Maybe so different that he would abandon her. Tony and Thor would probably if they had too. Bruce and Steve would feel obligated to, and not because they were all friends.

Natasha was about to call the area clear when she saw someone run past her hallway, a task obviously in mind. He wasn't wearing a tweed jacket, but something about how the man was running arose suspicion in her mind.

"I might have something, stand by." The Black Widow whispered, instantly following the man.

It wasn't long before she recognized the man. It was the insecure run that gave it away.

"False alarm," Natasha whispered, "It was just a worker."

"Why are you still whispering then?" Tony whispered back, mocking her.

Nat rolled her eyes at Tony's 'humor', "Something is still off, and Clara's cell is around here meaning The Doctor might be too. Don't worry, at least I can handle myself." Natasha ended with a smirk.

Steve sighed from the other line, wondering how the two worked so well together when they seemed to be always arguing, "Stark, finish your area and head back to the lobby and see if you can find him wondering around there. Nat, head to the basement and see if maybe he got lost and ended up down there. I'm going to talk to someone, maybe see if they've seen The Doctor."

"Sure Gramps," Tony replied, "Whatever you say."

"Copy that." Natasha responded, resorting to her normal response.

The radio went silent. The Black Widow resumed stalking her prey, his footsteps were loud, making it all but hard to follow. She would have made herself noticeable, but something was holding her back. Her instincts told her to wait.

She followed the man for a few more minutes, staying one corner behind him. He stopped in front of a reinforced forced door, and typed in a password to a pad beside it. The door slid open and he slipped inside.

A reinforced door and a code to open it only meant on thing, a cell. The man had entered a restricted cell, and judging by his uncomfortable walk, he was going to break someone out.

* * *

><p>"I'm so sorry," Bruce muttered under his breath, awkwardly picking up the girl with the red hair. He didn't quite know what her name was. Her file had said something like Diana, but her licenses ha said Charlie. Maybe she was part of witness protection program, maybe she just didn't like her name.<p>

Bruce decided to swing one of her arms around his shoulder, and he'd hold her up by the waist. There was a less likely chance of her punch him in the face this way. He did not want to Hulk out today.

Dr. Banner began his long journey to Clint's car, dragging the girl out the door of the cell. Charlie wasn't necessarily heavy, but it was a good two miles dragging her to the parking lot.

"Fancy meeting you here Dr. Banner." a soft voice said from beside him.

Scared half to death, Bruce spun around. In front of him was another head of red hair.

"Natasha?" Bruce asked, more surprised that she was here than anything else.

"Bruce." Nat replied curtly, not asking but telling. Bruce tried to utter some excuse, but Natasha beat him to it, "I was wondering what you were doing down here. It' mostly holding cells and gyms, neither of which you go to." Bruce opened his mouth to deny the last part, but got cuff off again, her voice icy cold, " I figured it out though. You think you are smarter than the rest of us. You think you can take them away and control them, when you can't even control yoursel-"

"Natasha!" Bruce yelled, grabbing her shoulder with the hand that wasn't wrapped around Charlie's waist, " This wasn't my idea! Clint called me earlier, freaking out. He didn't tell me why, he just told me to get Charlie and Clara out!"

Natasha opened her mouth, staring Bruce right in the eye with wide panicked, "Steve! Steve respond! What happened Tony!"

Bruce gave her a confused look, wondering who she was talking to. Her hand went up to her left ear and she looked like she was straining to hear something. An earpiece. She was talking to Tony and Steve through an earpiece.

" What happened to Steve!" Bruce fretted, making the connection.

"I don't know! We've got to go!" Natasha wrapped her arm around Charlie's waist, creating an 'X' of the two arms.

The three of them raced down the hallways, shoving past more than one Agent. No one gave them a second look. Natasha kept begging Steve to stay with them, for him to say anything. Charlie began to moan when the two of them went too fast, and Bruce prayed that she'd stay under for just a bit longer. He prayed that Steve was ok. He prayed that all the strange things that had occurred would end soon.

* * *

><p>Tony doubted that he had run faster in his life before now. His Iron Suit case was weighing him down, but he didn't want to put it down not knowing what was waiting on the other end.<p>

Something had happened to Steve, something bad. The earpieces had been connected to JARVIS who monitored the brain. If any pain showed up, the earpiece would turn on so the GPS in it would work. There had been an extreme amount of pain, and JARVIS made sure Tony knew.

Steve just fell down the stairs, the hard concrete stairs that would hurt anyone Tony tried to convince himself. Maybe just stubbed his pinky toe on the edge of a wall.

"Turn left here, Sir," JARVIS told Tony, his voice emotionless.

Following JARVIS' command, Tony turned left and stopped dead in his tracks. The hallway was white. Bright white. It was an extreme contrast to the dark hallways outside. The area had been under construction for a while; they were building a living quarters for the Agents.

It wasn't any of those things that made him stop in his tracks though. It was the blood. It stained the walls in such a sickly way that Tony was too scared to look down and see where it came from. Instead he closed his eyes.

He thought of all the people who had died in his life. His parents, the military convoy he was with, Yinsen, Stane, and so many others. He couldn't lose another friend.

Opening his eyes, Tony looked down hoping Steve was alive and well and that it was someone else's blood. Steve was lying on the ground, his back pressed against it. His chest didn't move, his eyes were glassy, and there was too much blood. Tony didn't even bother checking for a pulse. Steve was gone.

Pounding footsteps echoed the halls as Tony stared at the roof, unable to look at the body below. The running footsteps got closer and closer till they stopped beside him. Tony turned to see Natasha put a hand up to her mouth in shock, and whisper something in Russian. Bruce let go of the girl he was holding up with Natasha and run towards the body.

"What happened?" Natasha asked, turning her head to look at him.

"I don't know," was Tony's simple reply.

The two stood in silence for a second. A moment of silence for their fallen friend. It was almost completely silent except for the CPR Bruce was attempting to perform on Steve.

A sudden yell from Bruce knocked them out of the silence. He was yelling one simple word.

Tony looked down the hall at Bruce. His skin was turning green and everything seemed to be growing. Tony, finally out of the shock of his friends death, grabbed the girl Natasha was holding, and fled down the hallway, pulling both the girl and Natasha in tow.

An angry roar followed them down the hallway. The sound of a crumbling building came seconds after.

The word Bruce had been yelling was run.

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><p><strong>AN: **Well, this story is coming to a close at last! A few more chapters and that's it... Or is it? It's up to you guys to decide! Do you want a sequel, in which I add even more fandoms and other good stuff, or should I just finish this book and be done with it? Decide now or forever hold your peace!


	12. Anger

**Anger**

Something was off from the moment The Doctor peeked his head out of the TARDIS' door. It was silent, and scarily so. No voices echoed through halls, not a footstep was to be heard. From what The Doctor could tell, this was a fairly massive base, which meant that there should be people. A lot of them. It seemed like there wasn't a soul left in the building.

Cautiously, The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS. The air was chilly, but not too cold, yet goose bumps raced up The Doctor's arms. Maybe it wasn't the cold. The whole atmosphere of the place was dark.

The Doctor took one step, then another, each step bringing him closer to the cell Clara might be in. He had parked the TARDIS outside the cell, only because he didn't know what might be inside. Gunmen, aliens, maybe even deadly gas, all of which could kill Clara, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

Taking the last step to the door, The Doctor stopped. He pulled out his sonic and pointed it at the panel beside the door. After a second, the door soundlessly slid open. Keeping the sonic out in front of him, The Doctor slid into the room.

The room was a blinding white. The silence was deafening. Two beds lay empty of people. Clara was nowhere to be found.

"Clara, my Impossible Girl," The Doctor whispered under his breath, scanning the room, with the sonic, for any signs of life. There was none.

Not losing his hope, The Doctor left the room, and stepped into the TARDIS. Clara Oswald was in the other cell, she had to be there, he kept telling himself. She had to be there.

Kevin was terrified beyond measures. Sam was still out cold, Dean was still nowhere to be seen, and someone was trying to break the door to their cell down.

A consistent banging noise was coming from outside the door, and the walls around the cell. Every once and a while the lights would power down, leaving the two in complete darkness.

"Sam," Kevin begged, "Wake up! I don't know what to do!"

Suddenly the temperature dropped in the room, and the hair stood up on the back of Kevin's neck. The lights flickered. Without a second thought, Kevin dived on top of Sam, trying to protect him from what was to come.

Within seconds the door burst out from the wall, nearly hitting both Kevin and Sam. The door cluttered to the ground. Kevin didn't move away from Sam, he didn't want to see who, or what, made the door fly in.

Loud footsteps came towards Kevin and Sam. The steps seemed to rumble the room as they came towards them.

"You must come with me," a powerful voice said from behind Kevin.

When Kevin didn't move a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. The force of it was so strong that as soon as the man let go of Kevin, he collapsed to the ground.

"Is this man conscious?" the man asked, looking over Sam.

"No," Kevin replied shakily, trying to get back on his feet, "Leave him alone!"

The large man turned around, blood streaked across his face, and fear in his eyes, "I must get you two out of here. There are creatures outside, creatures which I have never seen. I have slowed them down, but we have little time." With that, he grabbed Sam and threw him over his shoulder.

As the man left the room with Sam, Kevin figured he had two options. One, he could try and take down the man, get Sam, and make a break for it, but most likely die in the process by the extremely buff man, or by whatever 'creatures' were outside. The other options was to follow the man, let him lead them out, then hopefully make a run for it from there. The second one seemed like a better option by far, there was a far less chance he'd be murdered this way, and the man would most likely protect them from whatever was outside the door.

Kevin, deciding on option two, followed the man, and Sam into the hall outside. The stranger had a hammer gripped tightly in his right hand, in a battle position. As they walked, Kevin noticed markings. Black rings splattered the walls. Streaks of blood showed signs of a struggle, yet there were no bodies.

"We are almost there," the man muttered, "We are almost there."

Sam, who hadn't made a sound since the incident, groaned. His eyes opened for a split second before closing again. Kevin wanted to man to stop so he could see if Sam was ok, but he didn't want to make the man mad.

Sam's eyes opened again a few minutes later. He looked around, confusion etched onto his face. He blinked three slow blinks, before going limp again.

"Who are you?" Kevin asked, finally letting his curiosity take over.

The man hesitated before answering, "I am Thor, son of Odin."

Kevin stopped dead in his tracks. He remembered the stories Sam and Dean had told him about the gods, and how awful they were. He wanted to turn around and face whatever evils were in the other direction.

Taking a deep breath, he caught up to Thor, and hoped he hadn't noticed his fear. Kevin knew he wouldn't be able to take on a god, at least not without Sam or Dean.

A sudden roar ripped through the building. The lights around them shut down, leaving them in darkness. Alarms echoed through the halls.

Thor turned to Kevin, shoving Sam into his arms, "Take two rights, a left, a right, and two lefts you should make out of the building. Run as far as you can from here when you get out." Thor took off without a word, leaving Kevin to get Sam to the exit.

Kevin felt along the wall with one hand, dragging Sam in the other. Ferocious roars seemed to come from everywhere around him.

When the bright red exit sign came into view, Kevin nearly screamed with joy. He dragged Sam to the exit with a burst of strength.

The light outside was nearly blinding. Kevin could only squint as he took in his surroundings. He was obviously in a parking lot, cars were scattered here and there. If he was lucky, someone would have left their keys in their vehicle.

As Kevin took a step forward, the sound of crushing metal came from the building behind him. He turned around just in time to see the roof of the complex explode.

Kevin backed up as fast as he could. Debris fell from the sky like rain. A large piece concrete crushed a car not far away from them.

Out of nowhere came one of the most terrifying things Kevin had ever seen, and he had seen a lot. A giant green monster landed only a few feet away from them.

And it did not look happy.


	13. Confusion

Confused

"All I wanted was a nice simple week. Get Clara, go home, and be done with it, but no. What's the fun in that?" Clint mumbled to himself, "Now I'm involved in a criminal conspiracy that involves a murderer, a director of a massive agency, and an archer who is way to curious for his own good."

The halls of the SHIELD base were quiet, too quiet. Every foot step seemed to echo like thunder through the hallways, but Clint wasn't worried about that. At the moment he was running, hoping to save the mans life in front of him.

Dean Winchester's broken body was still strapped in the wheelchair Clint was pushing. The handcuffs were the only thing keeping his body in the chair.

After Fury/Saymon had left the room, Clint had snuck down from the vents. He had watch the entire incident between him and Dean, and was in a bit of shock. It was obvious that Fury had involved not only himself, but all of SHIELD in some sort of gang war between this Crowley figure and Abaddon.

By time Clint had reached the Winchester he was half dead. Cuts tore through the boys skin, his eyes were swelled shut. His pulse was there, but barely.

As gently as he could, Clint maneuvered Dean into a more comfortable position on the chair, then he proceeded to push the chair out the door and into the hallway. Listening carefully for anyone coming, Clint took off in a sprint. LThe faster he got to his car, the faster he would be able to get Dean and Clara to safety. His bow was easily accessible on his back if he needed it, and he hoped he didn't.

They were only a few meters from the exit when a roar came from deep within the building. A roar that could only belong to one thing. The Hulk was out. Almost instantly the lights shut down, letting the emergency lights illuminate the halls.

Agent Barton had to make a choice. The door to the outside world was only a few feet away, but if The Hulk had managed to make it outside, there was no way to defend both him an Dean. If they stayed in the building and The Hulk was still inside, they would be sitting ducks.

Pulling the chair to a stop away from the door, Clint grabbed his bow and knocked a smoke bomb arrow. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped out cautiously. The parking area was quiet. His car sat by the other exit. No one was in sight.

He let the strings on his bow relax, seeing that there was nothing there. He stepped back towards the door, ready to grab Dean and go, when the roof exploded. Debris flew down from the sky as Clint dived into a fetal position, protecting his head.

When he looked up, Kevin Tran was holding up the other Winchester, staring down The Hulk.

"Bruce!" Clint yelled, dusting pieces of the roof off of himself, "Bruce!"

The Hulk turned to look at him, the anger fading in his eyes. The green head turned slightly sideways, staring at Clint.

Leaving his bow on the ground and standing up, Clint gently began to talk to Bruce, "It's ok Bruce, it's me Clint! We're friends remember? Do you remember the itching powder prank that we pulled? We filled one of Tony's suits with itching powder and he was mad for a week!" The Hulk's eyes softened even more.

The green man turned around. He faced Clint's car, which was beyond crushed. The Hulk ripped of the chunk of roof crushing the car, and gently reached inside. An unconscious Clara was resting in The Hulks green hands. The Hulk moved in front of Clint and gently place Clara on the ground.

She was covered in cuts and bruises. Her left arm was obviously broken, and blood was seeping from a cut on her forehead.

The kid, Kevin, looked horrified. He was shaking, barely managing to hold up Sam. His eyes were filled with fear.

Clint looked back at Clara and Bruce, before walking over to Kevin. Each step he took forward, Kevin took one back.

Putting his hands in a surrendering position, Clint kept walking forward addressing Kevin, " It's going to be ok kid, I'm one of the good guys. Your friend, Dean, he's just inside the building." He paused in front of Kevin and Sam, "Can I help you with Sam?" The boy stopped and thought for a second before nodding his head yes.

Clint stepped forward and put his arm under Sam's. He lifted the weight off of Kevin.

"Thank you-" Kevin barely got the words out of his mouth before the sound of several guns broke the quiet air.

Both Kevin, and Clint hit the ground, hoping to avoid the bullets whizzing through the air. The Hulk on the other hand ran towards the gun fire, literally roaring with anger.

"Stay down!" Clint yelled over the gun fire, army crawling towards his bow.

He didn't know who could be shooting at them. SHIELD might be, but they should have been smart enough not to make The Hulk any angrier. The government was with them last time he checked, so that left very few people.

Clint drew an explosive arrow and launched it into the crowd of gun fighters. The conversation he had overheard with the not Fury, and Dean suddenly came back to him

"Kevin!" Clint yelled across the parking lot, "Who's Abaddon?"

Kevin looked at Clint oddly, "She's a knight of hell..." His eyes widened as he figured out what was going on, "They're demons! You need to exorcise them!"

"And how do I do that?" Clint let loose another explosive arrow.

Clint watched as Kevin took a deep breath before standing up and yelling at the top of his lungs, ""Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare..." Guns dropped to the ground as the people held their heads in pain, screaming. This didn't seem to faze Kevin as he continued in the now quieter air, "Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis... Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine... quem inferi tremunt... Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!" On the last word the people shooting at them dropped to the ground, black smoke escaping their lips and fading into the sky. The bodies lay unmoving after that.

The Hulk looked surprisingly calm, and he stalked away, hopefully he would return as Bruce. Kevin looked stunned. He just stood there, rocking in the breeze. Clara was still out cold, and Sam looked like had was waking up.

Clint walked towards the bodies that littered the ground, trying to figure out what had happened. All of them were wearing SHIELD uniforms, and branding SHIELD weapons. These were his friends. Now they lay unmoving, cuts and burns everywhere. Their faces were still recognizable, at least some of them. He recognized Tommy, a new agent who had wanted to gain respect from the older agents. Alice, she had three kids waiting for her to come home. Mason, they had been friends for years.

Leaning over Mason, Clint sighed. He gently closed his old friends eyes, feeling an overwhelming sensation of sadness. He and Mason had met when they were twenty. They were both fairly new at SHIELD, and kind of lost in all the chaos. Between the two of them though. They had found a way together. They were best friends for years, but had gradually grown apart. He hadn't see Mason in almost six months. Clint had been planning to catch up with him, but hadn't been able to find the time.

Standing up to leave, Clint noticed something. A bullet wound was sitting on top Mason's heart. Crouching back down, Clint gently moved the cloth around the bullet wound, examining it carefully. He couldn't have got it from any of them, no one was shooting any guns. Maybe it was friendly fire?

Suddenly Clint stopped moving, the blood around the wound was crusted. That meant that the wound was old, as in he should have been dead before he started shooting at him.

Swallowing hard Clint walked back to the Winchester and Kevin, trying to figure out what was going on. Aliens, the walking dead, and blood rituals all in less than a week.

How the hell was SHIELD going to recover from this?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, since this story is beginning to come to a close (Two, maybe three chapters left!) I am proud to announce I have an idea for my next fan-fiction! Lets just say some characters from the Percy Jackson series will be involved... Thanks so much for reading!


	14. Beginning of the End

The Beginning of the End

To be perfectly honest, Tony was terrified. He had faced some crazy things, terrorist organizations, crazy weapons developers, even fire welding mutants, but this took the cake. People controlling fire? That could be explained by science and a little math. Humans being basically immortal? Tony doubted that even Thor could explain that.

He had watched in horror as one of Natasha's bullets hit one of them in, what looked like, the heart. Instead of dropping down in pain, or in death, the man had just laughed, and kept on firing his weapon.

Tony literally tried everything from rockets to punching them with all the force he had. Nothing was working. Not even Thor, who had shown up screaming at them to run, to which he had regrettably ignored, could take them down, except for one, who was a burning pile of ashes at the moment.

"Stark, Thor!" Natasha yelled over the sound of gunfire, "We have to retreat! There are too many of them!"

That was an idea that even Tony could agree on, "Thor, grab Nat and get out of here! I'll get Charlie, and see if I can find the others before blasting this place to the ground!"

Natasha glared at Tony, uncertainty in her eyes, "Is that really the best course of action? These are, or were, SHIELD agents." She hesitated, firing a few more bullets from behind a wall, "That's a lot of lives Tony, do you really want that on your ledger?"

Instead of responding he kept to firing his repulsors. Yes, there were a lot of people in here, but if they got loose and started killing civilians...

Yes, lives would be lost, but in the long run, it might save hundreds more.

Tony stopped dead in his tracks, letting bullets bounce off his armor without even flinching. What the hell had he been thinking? The ominous "Council" had been willing to do the same thing to New York less than a year ago, and here he was willing to commit the same crime.

Sighing, Tony responded, "You're right, no point in killing even more than we have. Let's get out of here and try our best to contain them."

Nat turned to face Tony, worry etched onto her face, "Tony, I-" she was cut off as several bullets flew past her head.

"Stark!" Thor yelled, his hammer still swinging, "They have brought a new weapon out!"

Turning around, Tony caught sight of the weapon. Eyes widening, he dived towards Natasha and Charlie, desperately trying to get them out of the way. A rocket launcher going off in this small of a space would kill everyone, possibly even Thor.

Closing his eyes, he hunched over the two girls, praying with everything he had that the wall and armor would be enough to save their lives.

He waited. He waited for the inevitable death that was surely coming his way. At least he might be able to see Steve again, his parents, maybe even Yinsen.

It never came though. There was no explosion. No pain. No death. Slowly, he lifted his head from where it was buried in Nat's hair, and looked around. Thor was beside him, his hammer raised.

Cautiously, he looked down the hallway to his right. Fallen soldiers littered the ground, and in the middle of them, a man in a trench coat.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had thought he had come to expect the unexpected. He was wrong. He had expected to see Clara, safe and sound. He had expected, maybe, there to be an army of men waiting for him. He had maybe even expected to see River. What he had not expected was to see a single man, standing in the middle of the second holding cell, obviously waiting for him.<p>

The Doctor carefully studied the one eyed man. He was probably military, if his great posture, and at ease look indicated anything. Yet there seemed to be something off about him. Was it the eyepatch? Was it the vast amount of weapons on him?

Considering that this was the first person he had seen all day, and possibly the last, The Doctor had to get over his suspicions and talk to the man. He needed to find Clara.

The TARDIS hummed nervously behind him as he headed out. He stopped at the doors, and gently touched them, trying to reassure her that he'd be fine. He would be.

Without further hesitation, he whipped out his sonic screwdriver and marched into the cell, making sure to close the door behind him.

The two stood just over ten feet apart, staring at each other. The Doctor was scanning the man across from him. The man seemed to be study him.

"Welcome to SHIELD, Doctor," the man smiled a very fake smile at him, "My name is Saymon, and I think we can help each other."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at this, "How so? And where is Clara!"

Saymon tsked at The Doctor, waving his pointer finger slightly, "Don't you worry, Clara is in a safe, and secure location. In all honesty, it should be your safety you should worry about."

The Doctor tipped his head slightly, confused at his comment, "Why?" He asked Saymon, "I thought you said we could be mutually beneficial?"

"I did say that, didn't I," Saymon laughed, "Well, I benefit from just seeing you! You have your box, that weapon in your hand, and your soul of course! People would kill just to get a glimpse of it!"

"So how do I benefit from this exactly? And where is Clara!" The Doctor demanded.

Saymon let out another low laugh. Footsteps echoed around the room as Saymon began to circle around The Doctor. Each step was slow and deliberate, like a tiger stalking its prey.

A barely decipherable buzz came from The Doctor's sonic screwdriver, signaling that the scan had been complete. The coding was easy to read, but it sent shivers down his spine reading them. Species: Unknown.

"Like I said, Doctor, Clara is in a safe place," Saymon said, a smirk resting on his face.

The Doctor replied in a soft voice, "I have been traveling for hundreds of years, yet I have never come across something that looked so human, and had not been discovered by the Time Lords. I don't care at the moment who you are, but I do care that you're avoiding my question. Where is Clara?"

"I'm sorry Doctor, you're right. I have been avoiding your questions." His pacing stopped, "How do you benefit from this? Well, you no longer have to make decisions for yourself! From here on out, I'll get to control every move you make! Sound fair enough for you?"

The Doctor reeled back in shock. It was yet another thing he had not expected. This thing was trying to control him.

Using everything last ounce of telepathy he had with the TARDIS, he told her to find Clara once she was safe, and not to return to him until the danger had passed. Having him under someone else's control was dangerous enough. If they had the TARDIS as well, they would be unstoppable.

"Why bother telling me this then, why not just take control of me now?" The Doctor asked, trying to buy some time for the TARDIS to leave.

Another wicked laugh came out of Saymon's mouth, "I like my prey feeling absolute fear as I possess them." He said simply.

Eyes widening, The Doctor turned and ran as fast as he could towards the doors, hoping to get out before it was too late. It was like running through molasses though. His movements felt slow, and sluggish. He would never make it in time.

He turned his head just as black smoke poured out of Saymon's mouth, and headed towards his own. He tried to cover his face, tried to keep the smoke at bay, but everything was too slow.

The last thing he heard before Saymon completely took over was the reassuring wheezing sound that signaled that the TARDIS was leaving him behind.

* * *

><p>Kevin was tired. He was tired of having half of Hell on his tail at all times. He was tired of fighting monster that should really only be in myths. He was tired of fearing for his life.<p>

At this exact moment though, he was just tired of staying awake. It felt like he hadn't slept in days. He couldn't go to sleep, no matter how much he wanted too, not yet.

He was sitting against a very crushed car. To the right of him Sam was laying on the ground, his head resting against a jacket the bow and arrow guy had found for him. Kevin was worried about him. He figured the drugs should have worn off by then, yet he was still asleep.

On his left, Dean was laying on his shoulder, in a very fitful sleep. It had taken Kevin far too long to convince Dean that he needed to rest and that he could watch over them himself. Dean had fallen asleep sitting up, but had slowly leaned in till he was asleep on his shoulder.

The last person he was watching over was a girl. He hadn't caught her name, but she seemed ok, maybe? The arrow guy, which Kevin hadn't caught his name either, had asked him to watch over her. He couldn't say no. Her head had ended up at the bottom of his legs.

He couldn't afford to fall asleep. There wasn't just his life at risk, but three others too! He would not fall asleep!

In a desperate attempt to follow his plan, he focused his attention on arrow guy, and Bruce, the guy that could turn into a giant green monster. At this point, Kevin wasn't even that surprised.

The two were wondering around the parking lot, trying to find a vehicle that could fit everyone, and could be hot wired. Every once and a while they would glance his way. Obviously they were talking about them, and probably the stunt he pulled with the exorcism.

"Hey Kevin!" Archer guy called from across the parking lot, "Pack up, we found a vehicle! We'll come around and grab you, ok?" Kevin didn't bother responding, they were going to come around whether he liked it or not.

A few minutes later a bright red mini van pulled up in front of him. Kevin raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother saying anything about the lack of style.

Between the three of them, Bruce, Kevin, and Clint, who had finally introduced himself, managed to get the still very unconscious people into the back of the vehicle. Dean didn't even stir when he was moved, which was odd. He usually woke up at the slightest noise. After that Kevin made sure to watch his friends chest, making sure it was still moving.

Clint slowly turned the van around, and headed towards the nearest exit. No one talked. In fact, the only sound sound was Dean's labored breathing.

"Clint, I think we need to phone the others, make sure they're alright." Bruce said softly, staring out the window.

The archer didn't say anything, instead he grabbed his phone, and without taking his eyes off the road, he dialed a number.

His hands began to tap against the wheel impatiently as the the ringing continued, "Come on Nat, pick up!"

* * *

><p>Charlie woke up beyond confused. She was in an unfamiliar building, with people she definitely did not know surrounding her. A man with long blond hair was wielding a hammer to her right, a woman with red hair had two loaded guns pointed in front of her to her left, and a person wearing a metal suit directly in front of her.<p>

They all looked sort of familiar, but she was sure she hadn't met them before. Maybe they had passed each other in the streets or. . . Holy crap. They were the freaking Avengers!

Wait, if the Avengers were in front of her, what happened that she ended up here? She had gone to Kansas to, to meet up with the Winchester!

This was their fault, she knew it! They had been killing things for years, it had already gained the attention of the police, the FBI, and probably the CIA, so why not the Avengers? She was so going to smack them when she got a hold of them!

Slowly, she turned herself over, and pushed herself up onto her arms, her muscles screaming in protest. No one seemed to notice her movement.

Charlie looked at the three people around her. They were tense. All of them had their weapons pointed at something down the hall. Turning slowly, she looked down the hallway, just catching a glimpse of a familiar trenchcoat.

"Cas!" she said, her voice sounding raw.

Instantly, the weapons went from Cas to her. Quickly, she threw her hands in in the air, nearly toppling over in the process.

"I come in peace?" Charlie whispered, too terrified to say anything else.

Cas appeared behind the God of Golden Hair, and pushed him out of his way.

"Charlie," Castiel said, kneeling down next to her, ignoring the weapons pointed at him, "Are you ok?"

Looking at the gun pointed at them, she responded, "I have a gun pointed at my head, in a building I have never been to, with both Winchester's and Kevin MIA! I am just peachy!"

"No you're not," Cas said, tilting his head, "Please put your weapons away. It's not helping anyone."

"I'll put my weapon down when you tell us what is going on," The Black Widow countered.

"It's obvious isn't it? The demons wanted Kevin."

"And why did they want Kevin? How'd you take these 'demons' out?"

"He's the prophet. By using an exorcism."

Natasha looked at Tony, an eyebrow raised, "What's so special about a prophet?"

"Can we please talk about this later," Charlie pitched in, ignoring the angry stares," If the demons are after Kevin, I doubt this is all of them."

"I'm going to agree with Red over here, we need to get out now," Tony agreed, "We can swap stories later."

"Don't even try to leave," Natasha declared, gesturing to her guns.

Nodding his head, Cas gently helped Charlie to her feet, letting her lean against him. He didn't want to go with them. They did not understand what was at stake if any of them got caught. But, it was the only way he'd find his friends.

Thor and Natasha walked behind Cas and Charlie, hands on their weapons. Tony lead them out of the base, using the schematics that JARVIS sent him.

"Clint called," Natasha said offhandedly.

Putting the phone to her ear, she listened to the message, "Hey Nat, it's your favorite archer!" a slight pause, "Listen, some seriously kooky stuff went down, and we are heading to our safe house Toronto for some downtime. We'll be there in about forty-eight hours. Call me if you need anything."

Without hesitating, Natasha threw her phone to the floor and smashed it with her foot.

"I'm guessing we're going to Toronto?" Charlie asked.

Natasha looked at her, and replied with a simple no.

"Wait a second," Tony started, "Clint said..."

Rolling her eyes, Natasha cut him off, "In one of our missions in Israel, our phones were bugged. Clint and I had gotten separated, our safe house had been compromised, the only way to contact each other had been through our phones. We had to risk it. The terrorist group found us there. We destroyed half the international airport before we could take them down."

"Lady Romanoff, is their a point to this story?" Thor asked curiously.

"I was getting to that Thor. After that we came up with a code words. Kooky means that there is a good chance that our phones are bugged," she glanced at the two people in front of her, deciding whether or not to continue, " and anything after kooky is coded. Call me if you need anything means destroy your phone asap. Toronto is the codename for The Avengers Tower."

"So that means. . ." Tony started.

"Ya Tony, we're going home."

* * *

><p>.<p>

* * *

><p>All that's left is the epilogue! After I edit all the chapters I shall release the it!<p>

Thank you all for the reads, follows, favorites, and reviews, it means so much to me!


	15. The End

The End

For the first time in ages, Steve felt at peace.

There was laughter all around him. People were smiling, dancing and cheering. Flags were hanging around the bar, bright and beautiful. No one seemed to be holding back tonight, but why would anyone? They had won the war!

"A beer, and your strongest liquor for the hero over here!" A man slipped into the seat beside him.

Steve couldn't help but smile, "You know I can't get drunk right?"

"Of course!" The young man returned the smile, mirth in his eyes, "But, you can't celebrate without liquor, it's no fun! Besides, you might need a little liquid luck if you're going to ask Peggy to go on a date with you

Steve turned away, his ears turning slightly red, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come on, everyone knows you like her!" he leaned in, and quietly whispered in Steve's ear, "Rumour has it she likes you too."

Steve gaped in shock at the man, "I don't think she's does I mean, there are plenty of other men th-"

"Really Steve? You pretty much single handedly defeated Hydra! How could any girl not fall in love with you? I think you should go for it, besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

"She could say no!" Steve exclaimed. The man, his friend, shot Steve a look that screamed 'How could you be this stupid." With a mighty sigh, Steve stood up, and looked around the room for Peggy.

"That's my boy!" the man cheered, taking a sip of his beer in a toasting manner.

Captain Rodgers looked down at his friend, a smile returning to his face once again, "Thanks Bucky." With that he headed off to find his girl.

The bar was packed, and with the music playing so loudly, he couldn't even yell for her. He tried looking over the heads of people, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Excuse me young man, but are you looking for someone?" An man beside him asked. He had dark brown hair, with a slightly greying beard. He was in a knitted jumper, with a book in his arm.

Steve nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, her name is Peggy. Peggy Carter."

"Oh yes, what a fine young lady! Follow me, I know where she is." With that, the man set off, Steve following closely behind.

The two moved through the room, getting hit by dancers every few steps. They went to the back end of the building, and began to follow a twisted hallway.

"I never noticed this before," Steve commented, trying to figure out how he had missed such a large hallway.

"No. You probably didn't. Now straight through the door!" The older man pointed at the door at the end of the hall.

His gut instinct told him not to do it. It told him he was safer on this side of the door. It told him that walking through the door was a bad idea, but he ignored it. He had to find Peggy. He had to tell her how much he liked, no, loved her.

With a deep breath, he grabbed the handle, swung open the door, and stepped into the room.

But it wasn't a room. It was a completely white hallway, that went infinitely in both directions. He tried to go back, but the man was in his way, blocking his way to the white door with the name Steve Rogers above it.

"Where am I?" He growled, hands balling into fists.

"You don't remember, do you?" A smile made its way to the man's face.

"What are you talking about!"

A laugh erupted from the man, "Your death of course!"

Steve stared at the man in shock, "What are - I'm not dead!"

"Yes you are! Do you not remember? The Avengers?"

Five faces popped up in his mind. Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Thor.

"The mission to find the cult the Winchester's created?"

More faces flew through Steve's head, causing him to stumble back. Sam and Dean Winchester. Kevin Tran. Jimmy Novak.

"Do you remember Jimmy stabbing you? He didn't want his precious family to be taken into custody, no matter the crimes. He killed you, simply because he was in his way!"

He remembered. The pain had been horrible. He hadn't been able to even move.

"Now Jimmy, and his gang of criminals have the perfect opportunity to go after your friends. Think how fast he killed you, and you have superpowers! Think about Clint, bleeding to death after he tried to protect Tony from the attacks."

Rage ran through him. They wouldn't kill his friends. They wouldn't!

Steve stood up straighter, eyes boring into the other man's, "I have to stop them."

"Yes you do. Don't worry, I've got a plan. A perfect plan at that." With that, he started heading down the hallway, gesturing for Steve to follow. "By the way, the names Metatron."

* * *

><p>And this is the end of book one! Sorry it's so short, but I feel like it wrapped things up pretty well! I have no idea when I'll be posting the next book, so bear with me! I'll also be posting this on Archive of Our Own, if you prefer that formating better! Thank you all so much for reading, and I'll see you all next time!<p> 


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